The Sarpeidon Chronicles 6: The Ever Moving Shadow
by LoriP
Summary: Spock is arrested for treason when he is suspected of engineering a Romulan invasion. All Our Yesterdays sequel. COMPLETE
1. Part 6 Ch1

The Sarpeidon Chronicles Part 6 The Ever Moving Shadow   
  
"The present is the ever moving shadow that divides yesterday from tomorrow. In that lies hope." Frank Lloyd Wright   
  
Chapter 1  
  
When he looked back on the events of the night that had changed his world forever, Governor I'gara realized that he had sensed that something was about to happen. This vague premonition wasn't the result of telepathy, since his species had never been blessed with that particular talent. Rather, his longstanding devotion to his duty and, in a strange way, to the prisoners assigned to his care, made him almost preternaturally sensitive to even the slightest shifts in their collective mood.  
  
Only a few days before everything changed, the inhabitants of Federation Penal Colony 28 had become restless.   
  
Of course, some ill feeling was to be expected among a population of political prisoners, traitors, and disgraced Federation officials. Before I'gara's tenure, anger and deceit had fueled attempted coups every few months or so. Five years earlier, I'gara's own predecessor had been injured so severely that he resigned his post. He had been a Terran, a harsh man, served by a throng of unbending disciplinarians. Unfortunately, his tactics had bred not genuine rehabilitation, but a malignant resentment that continued to this day.  
  
Not that he hadn't tried to make things different. I'gara came from a species known for its commitment not only to a strict moral code, but to benevolence and forgiveness-and he still found it odd how many of his inmates, and even some members of his staff, found those two ideals incompatible. For I'gara, the connection was obvious. Perhaps it helped that his race was blessed with what more humanoid species considered a fearsome appearance, with a hulking body that easily doubled the girth of an adult male human, and a face with protruding eyes and lips that, according to some, resembled a Terran bullfrog. I'gara had seen this animal in holographic images and found it a most handsome creature, so he did not resent the comparison. Primarily for this reason, but, he liked to think, for others also, the prisoners in I'gara's charge had slowly begun to respect him and tolerated his efforts to rehabilitate them both physically and morally.  
  
There was, however, an exception. Of the hundreds of men that had passed through his administrative control, I'gara considered only one truly unredeemable. Years of captivity, including many in solitary confinement, had done nothing to curb his brash arrogance. On the few occasions when he was allowed to mingle with the other inmates, he bragged of how he had once lived off a succession of wealthy and gullible women, including the daughters of at least two Federation ambassadors. Remorse was a word he had never learned in any of the several languages he spoke fluently; I'gara dreaded the day his thirty-year sentence for terrorism was up.  
  
With the scent of another riot circulating through the air, I'gara went straight to the man who was rumored to have engineered the first one.  
  
He entered the isolation cell alone, waving off his guards when they attempted to follow him inside. As far as I'gara was concerned its occupant had never looked physically threatening, with his thin body and perpetually lazy attitude.  
  
The governor didn't bother with formalities. "Tell me what the others are planning."  
  
The prisoner remained curled on his bunk in the corner, his knees drawn up to his chin. I'gara saw a smirk tug the corners of those tight blue lips.  
  
"But what can I know? Your express orders keep me in isolation here. Not even the other detainees are allowed to speak to me."  
  
"We all know you have ways of communicating among yourselves. If you cooperate with me this time, I am prepared to reward you."  
  
"You? Reward me?" Smugly, Therov crossed his arms and faced the wall. "How strange...I can't think of a single thing of yours that I would want."  
  
"In spite of everything, I still believe you are a man of honor. Your ideals prompted you to behave as you did in the outside world. I am willing to accept that there is still something of an optimist in you, misguided though you may be."  
  
Therov snorted. "I would pity you if I didn't have so much contempt for you. You serve the Federation, along with so many other noble souls. And yet, if a disturbance were to take place here-not that I am saying that one will-I wonder how quickly they would rush to your aid."  
  
I'gara shook his massive head in pity. "If it is escape you are dreaming of, surely you've realized by now that such hopes can never bear fruit. We are a self-sufficient colony; no supply ships have called here since before you were born. Personnel and prisoners, as you may recall, are never brought here by direct route. Physically, the planet itself is invisible unless one knows precisely how and where to look for it. For the forty years it has existed, the location of this colony has remained utterly unknown to all but a handful of Federation officials. You had better get used to the idea that you will spend the remainder of your sentence here. PC28's main function is to punish, true enough, but it can also be a place of renewal, even rebirth, if one is willing to give up old delusions."  
  
Still smiling, Therov shifted position so that he was staring directly into I'gara's fist-sized eyeballs. His own much smaller pupils flashed with a vicious intensity that took the governor aback. "In order for your sanguine little scheme to work, I would have to accept your authority over me as an unchangeable fact. Unfortunately for you, I do not."  
  
Turning his head in an exaggerated motion, Therov leaned against the wall of his cell and began to sing an Andorian folk song-an old ballad from the days before the Federation came. They were bold verses that celebrated copious blooshed and valiant blue-skinned warriors hacking away at each other with primitive but deadly weapons.  
  
I'gara went away, shaken but still unsure whether his suspicions had any real foundation.  
  
Then, two nights later, the assault came-not from within the prison walls, but from the skies. I'gara himself had been huddled in his quarters, his metabolism tuned to its nightly hibernation mode, when all at once his windows lit up and wild shouts reached his ear-slits. He looked out to see multiple fires and phaser-blasts blistering the colorless morning mist. Prisoners-some of them now armed, guards, and strangely dressed men in glistening helmets ran wildly across the smoking grounds. A few from all three groups already lay motionless on the ground.  
  
I'gara grabbed the phaser-rifle he kept in a hidden wall-panel and released his door-latch with the touch of a button. When the door slid open, one of his lieutenants staggered in, blood streaming from a phaser burn to his face and a deep gash in his shoulder.  
  
"Who are they?" I'gara asked as the man crumpled against him, his blood-flecked lips struggling to form words. At the same time, his hand fell open and an unusual weapon skidded across the floor. The governor could only stare in disbelief at what he recognized as a Romulan disruptor. Surely no Imperial vessel would be so foolhardy as to invade a penal colony inside the Neutral Zone!  
  
Quickly he took a first-aid kit from his desk and tended to his wounded subordinate. It would be folly to attempt to drag him to the infirmary now, so he used a hypo spray to dull the pain and dragged the wounded man to a hiding place.  
  
"I'll return with help," he said, then hurried outside with the rifle at his shoulder.  
  
In the open, the chaos was almost more than he could comprehend. He didn't know how many Romulans there were, but by then it hardly mattered. Then inmates he had worked so hard to redeem had happily joined forces with them and were cheerfully slaughtering I'gara's men at will. Uniformed bodies lined the ground, interspersed with a few jumpsuited inmates.  
  
I'gara wasted no time trying to help those he could see were well beyond mortal help. Instead, he slipped into a deserted guard station and down a concealed hatchway known only to prison staff. From there, a series of underground tunnels took him straight to a observation booth directly above Therov's cell, a hidden cubicle used for both security and behavioral observation. For reasons he could not quite elucidate, even in his own mind, he knew he would find some answers there.  
  
Sure enough, one of the Romulans had already found his way into the block of isolation cells and was using his disruptor to short out the protective force field. I'gara watched from above as the invader calmly ordered Therov back against the wall and reduced the high-security screen to a shower of harmless sparks. He then stepped through himself and removed his ornate battle helmet, freeing a cascade of incongruously shoulder-length black hair. Only now did I'gara realize that he was dressed not in an Imperial uniform, but in the stylish garb of an expensive mercenary. Only the helmet and the weapons were standard Romulan issue.  
  
"The other inmates will serve my forces well," he said as he approached Therov with his hand extended, "but you are the man I most wanted to save."  
  
"And I am grateful to you, brother," Therov said, hurrying forward to grasp the stranger's wrist in a military-style greeting. "But who are you? Why have the Romulans come for me?"  
  
The Romulan laughed heartily. "How interesting that you call me brother. In another life, we might well have been brothers-in-law. To answer your question, I am Selyk. And I come to you thanks to the generosity of Ambassador Spock. Now follow me. You will have your own command, of course. But first we shall take what we need and depart this place before anyone heeds the distress call their watchmen have surely sent."  
  
In the cramped space above them, I'gara drew himself up and held his breath until they were gone. Much later, as he recounted his tale to the Federation authorities who had, despite Therov's prediction, come to their aid, he was unsure which was greater: his horror at what he had seen happen to his colony, or his shock at what he'd overheard.  
  
- - -  
  
Elias' manner was curt as he gathered the three most trusted members of the Gamma Aurelius colony inside the Common Room. Their guest, a Raptarian trader who had arrived with his crew only that morning, sat at the table in the corner. Beneath his protruding feathered eyebrows, his hawklike gaze remained grim.   
  
"Our guest has brought some news of a rather urgent quality," Elias said, pacing the room as the rest of them took seats. "I thought we should discuss it among ourselves before disseminating it to the rest of the colony."  
  
"Is it about the pirates?" Jarrod asked. "Everyone's talking about that already."  
  
The Raptarian grumbled what was clearly a curse in his own language. "I told my crewmen to keep their beaks shut. Misinformation can be deadly, especially in this case."  
  
"Well, they didn't tell us much," Leila said. "Only that a supply freighter was hijacked by some kind of marauding band of outlaws. Rather dramatic, really. It would be impossible for people not to talk about something like that. This has always been a peaceful sector."  
  
"To tell you the truth, I'm more concerned about the supplies we won't be getting," interrupted Nicolas, another Terran colonist. "I've been waiting four months for a new pair of boots."  
  
Elias shook his head. "If what Risar, here, tells me is true, holes in our shoes will be the least of our problems. Go ahead. Tell them."  
  
"The signs would seem to indicate that these so-called pirates weren't simply opportunists. Their attack on the freighter was planned, as was their recent liberation of a Federation prison. Their whereabouts were unknown from then until now. With the supplies they captured along with the freighter, they will be able sustain themselves for some time. However, at some point they may wish to establish a home base with sufficient resources to maintain their growing ranks. And, need I remind you, Gamma Aurelius is one of the only suitable worlds within their reach. The freighter does not have warp capabilities."  
  
"That's pure speculation," Jarrod said. "Do you have direct information that they're planning to come here?"  
  
"I do not. However, there is ample precedent. You see, Romulans do not tend to cultivate unpopulated planets. Their typical modus operandi is to invade a society that is already functioning and simply establish their own rule. Gamma Aurelius has two commodities they will find difficult to resist: reasonable self-sufficiency and a supply of slave labor."  
  
For several moments, the group sat in stunned silence.   
  
Nicolas spoke first. "Why would Romulans be in this sector? Starfleet would surely intervene...wouldn't they?"  
  
"You know as well as I do that this colony is not a recognized Federation territory," Elias reminded them. "Leila and I made certain that we would be able to function with complete autonomy when we came here some twenty-five Earth years ago. It was the only way to ensure our scientific as well as our personal freedom. Ultimately, Starfleet may not wish to risk an intergalactic incident over a negligible-and insubordinate-encampment in a territory covered by no extant treaty."  
  
"It looks as if the entire colony may pay the price for our stubbornness," Leila glanced at Jarrod, who took her hand in silent support.  
  
"Not necessarily," the Raptarian said. "I have room for all of you on my ship, though you would have to share the cargo hold for the time being. Still, it's only five weeks to the nearest Starbase. I am willing to drop all of you there." "It's been a long time since we were forced to evacuate a colony," Elias said after a melancholy pause. "I daresay Leila remembers it."  
  
"Of course I do."  
  
"I would not consider forcing you to do anything," the Raptarian assured them. "I offer my services purely out of amity and diplomatic spirit."  
  
"In that case, we had better consider it as a group. We may not be a Federation territory in any official sense, but the ideals of democracy are important to us. We shall present this intelligence to our citizens and inform you of our decision later. In the meantime, Risar, please make yourself at home in our community."  
  
"Thank you." The trader rose and bowed. "Speaking of diplomacy, I do have one other message to deliver. Which of you is the son of a Federation Ambassador?"  
  
"I am." Frowning, Jarrod stood. The Raptarian held out a padd.  
  
"In that case, this is for you. A dispatch from your mother. It has traveled a most circuitous route in order to reach you." With a bow, he withdrew.  
  
"Well?" Elias stood and faced the group as Jarrod stuffed the unread message into his shirt pocket. "What do all of you say to this proposal? Shall we toss our things in sacks and set up shop in a cargo hold?"  
  
"We'd have to abandon our research," Leila said. "Twenty-five years worth of work for nothing. I was just making progress with my zygospores, and Jarrod and I just planted a new hybrid. Perhaps we could take a few cuttings, but their chances of survival are probably negligible."  
  
"Still, they're better than our chances if we stay," Nicolas ventured. "Romulans are not to be trifled with, and history shows that border wars tend to be bloody."  
  
"We have no evidence that this is an organized Romulan attack. At least, that has not been proved to my satisfaction." Elias pressed his knuckles against the tabletop. "In any case, reacclimating myself to modern Federation life is hardly more appealing than death, as far as I'm concerned."  
  
"Well, I disagree," Nicolas shot back. "That cargo hold sounds pretty snug and safe to me."  
  
"The rest of you may do as you like, of course. I plan to stay. I am no longer a young man. I've lived as I wanted to. If this is to be my end, I can accept that. But I promise you, I will fall defending what I have built."  
  
"You always did have an anarchistic streak, Elias." Leila's voice grew thick with emotion. "I suppose I share it, to some extent. Besides, we've been friends for forty years. I won't desert you, Elias."   
  
"And I'm the only one in the colony with Starfleet training, incomplete as it is." Jarrod's hand drifted to the padd tucked into his shirt. He swallowed. "You'll need my help. If you want me to stay, I will."  
  
"I suspected he would risk his life to stay with you, Leila. I'm pleased for your sake that I was not mistaken."  
  
"I think most of us will stay. None of us is eager to abandon our research because of something that might or might not happen."  
  
"Very well. Nicolas, you may gather anyone who feels as you do and make the proper arrangements with the Raptarians. The rest of us will meet here in two hours and formulate a plan of defense, should we need it. Until then, you are all free to reconsider your decision."  
  
"As are you, Elias." Nicolas left wearing a troubled expression.  
  
"Thank you all for your honesty." Elias dismissed them, as well as all further debate, with a gesture. "If you'll excuse me, I must see to our guests."  
  
When he and Leila were alone again, Jarrod removed the padd from his shirt and keyed in the diplomatic security code. He scowled as the opening screen came up and requested a second passcode. "Risar wasn't exaggerating. This was written weeks ago."   
  
"Still, it probably came faster than it would have by subspace radio. And now that there's trouble brewing, we're likely to be more isolated than ever."  
  
"I suppose we were fortunate to get it at all," he said as he punched in the third numerical sequence. "She certainly coded it well. Here it is."   
  
As he read Zarabeth's letter, his face paled.   
  
"What is it?" Leila met his bewildered look with one of dread. "Something's happened. Is it your sister, the one who's in Starfleet?"  
  
"No," he replied quietly. "Nothing like that. It's my father. He's been arrested for treason. The Federation Security Council has accused him of collaborating with the Romulans-something to do with the jailbreak Risar's crew told us about."  
  
"I can't believe it," Leila said, and in response he merely pushed the padd toward her. She scanned it, incredulous. "You'll have to go to them, of course. Never mind what you just said to Elias. He'll understand."  
  
Jarrod closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead for a moment. "No," he said finally. "I meant what I said to Elias. If the Romulans do come, this colony will need every advantage it can muster. I might not be able to contribute much, but what I do have to offer might turn out to be critical."   
  
Leila bent and slid her arms around him, and he clung to her as if some invisible tide were gradually pulling him off balance. Numbly, he read the words on the padd again, then again.  
  
"Anyway, it does look like they have the situation somewhat under control," he said after a while. "My grandfather has hired the best advocate on Vulcan to defend him. And when it comes to my mother, the Security Council would probably have better luck against a female Sehlat defending her brood. They'll manage without me. They'll have to."  
  
- - -  
  
Despite the exquisite tailoring of his brown two-piece suit, and the unusually severe haircut that left most of his bloated frontal lobe exposed, Special Prosecutor Naj Ahkafr paced the courtroom with the air of a predatory species in the wild. Even when he stopped to face his witness, his long legs tensed and his narrow shoulders twitched as if he were steeling himself to pounce.  
  
When he finally spoke, he snapped at each word as if he were doing battle with the sounds themselves. "Madam, you are aware that you cannot be compelled to testify against this defendant?"  
  
"I do know that. However, I feel it is my duty to tell the truth as I know it."  
  
"Arbiter, the Defense renews its motion to block the testimony of this witness." T'Rhan was already on her feet. "As my Learned Opponent has just pointed out, in any other case her testimony would be inadmissible due to the presumption of unreasonable bias. Surely even the Federation Security Council would agree that the Ambassador has a right to an objective consideration of the evidence."  
  
The Arbiter, a grey-skinned Selannarite whose stalklike neck extended delicately from his judicial robe, swayed his head gracefully from side to side as he considered. "I remind you, Counselor, that this is merely a hearing to determine whether the Federation has sufficient cause to remand Ambassador Spock for trial. The standard of admissibility is lower here than it will be should the matter reach open court. Therefore, we shall hear the witness and decide later as to the reliability or relevance of her testimony."  
  
Ahkafr smiled toothily. "I should like the record to reflect this witness' willingness to proceed. Now, to continue. Madam, do you know the defendant, Ambassador Spock?"  
  
"I thought I did."  
  
"Please elaborate on that answer."  
  
Zarabeth paused and glanced at Spock, who sat, expressionless, beside T'Rhan. "He's been my husband for almost thirty years. He is the father of my four children. And, until this matter recently came to light, he was the center of my life. Now I have no choice but to question his truthfulness in a variety of matters-not to mention his honor."  
  
"What was your understanding of the young man Selyk's departure from Amphitrite five years ago?"  
  
"I assumed he had gotten tired of his life here. Young men do have an urge to wander. I thought that was all there was to it."  
  
"And what did you know of Selyk's ethnic background at the time?"  
  
"I thought he was Vulcan. We all did-well, all of us except Spock. Later I learned that he knew that Selyk and his father were Romulans living under Federation protection."  
  
"And what other facts came to your notice after Selyk had left this world?"  
  
"I found out that it was Spock who arranged for Selyk to leave the base and join other Romulans. He even gave him a substantial sum of money to aid him in reaching the Neutral Zone."  
  
"How did you discover this?"  
  
"The Embassy's internal investigation brought it to my attention first. But my husband made no attempt to deny it when I confronted him."  
  
"Did he give you a reason for his actions?"  
  
T'Rhan jumped up again. "Arbiter, we must object. It is already on record that the Ambassador does not wish to enter a plea or state his defense at this time, inasmuch as he has not yet been charged with any crime."  
  
"I will sustain this objection. The Prosecutor may inquire as to what words passed between the parties in question, but not as to the motivations behind those actions."  
  
"Very well. I will withdraw the question. Instead, let me ask you this. Would you say that your husband made a habit of deceiving you?"  
  
"My understanding is that Vulcans are incapable of outright deception. Still, he was-and is-more than willing to withhold information. I learned long ago not to pry into what he called Embassy matters. Looking back on it, I should not have been so trusting."  
  
"The Federation Security Council thanks you for your honesty. Counselor, your witness."  
  
T'Rhan strode purposefully toward the witness box. "Is it not true that at one time, you-and not your husband-considered Selyk, the son of Sumarr, a possible mate for your daughter?"  
  
"I was willing to give him a chance. It was Lidia's decision in the end."  
  
"But the Ambassador never welcomed Selyk's visits to your shared domicile, is that correct?"  
  
"Actually, I never heard him voice a single objection. Apparently they must have conferred privately on at least one occasion."  
  
"Is it your intention to end your marriage to the Ambassador, whatever the outcome of this trial?"  
  
"I...I don't...Well, it's too soon for me to make that decision just now."  
  
"Isn't it true that you would take control of significant financial assets if the Ambassador were sent to prison? More than you might get in a simple divorce settlement?"  
  
This time, it was Ahkafr who towered over the room, his large eyes flashing with anger. "Objection! Opposing counsel is implying that my witness has come forward purely out of personal rancor!"  
  
T'Rhan swung around to face the bench. "If we are discussing personal rancor, Arbiter, may I remind the court that Special Prosecutor Ahkafr is himself one of the last surviving members of a race decimated by the Romulans. If we are gauging personal bias, we might start there."  
  
"Arbiter, it is true that my race, the Ptekosians, were nearly extinguished by a series of Romulan invasions spanning the past century and a half. However, I have served the Federation for many years and take the Federation Loyalty Act no more or less seriously than any Terran, Sarpeid, or Vulcan should."  
  
The Arbiter bobbed his head, eyes half-closed in thought. "Overruled. In the interest of addressing this recurrent issue of bias, the witness will answer."  
  
"Well?" T'Rhan pressed.   
  
Zarabeth shifted in her seat with obvious discomfort. "I would assume there would be some financial advantage to seeing him convicted. On the other hand, I have no reason to suppose he would be less than generous in the event that we separated. We do have two children still living at home."  
  
"The Defense has no further questions at this time. We do, however, reserve the right to recall this witness at a later date."  
  
As she climbed out of the witness box with obvious relief, Zarabeth tried to meet her husband's eyes. As T'Rhan returned to her place beside him and picked up her notes, Spock diverted his gaze toward his folded hands, which had remained motionless on the table throughout the day's proceedings. 


	2. Part 6 Ch 2

The Sarpeidon Chronicles Part 6

The Ever-Moving Shadow

Chapter 2

The thirty-five captives stood in a vaguely military formation, silently awaiting his inspection. Removing his helmet, Valas answered the salutes of his men with a nod, then briskly strode forward.

He saw at once that they were a disappointing bunch, mostly pasty-skinned and thin-limbed Terrans with a few other humanoids and apparent hybrids mixed in. Tall even for a Romulan, Valas towered over almost all of them. To his surprise, none of them flinched or betrayed the slightest fear as he moved slowly past them. That, of course, would change soon enough.

"Perhaps you are not entirely clear on what has happened today," he announced when he finally came to a stop. "If not, I will now explain it in simple and clear terms. Your colony is forfeit; I hereby claim every living thing and standing structure on Gamma Aurelius as the property of our invading force, its disposition to be determined by our most honored Enarrain. You are hereby commanded to accept our leadership and authority, and surrender your goods to our cause. If you do not, your lives are forfeit as well."

"In other words, you simply want to come in here and take away everything we've spent years, decades, building with our own hands." One of the Terrans, a saggy-faced old man with an incongruously stubborn chin and steely eyes, suddenly flared with anger. "Well, I, for one, don't find that acceptable at all. I'd sooner burn this entire colony to ashes than hand one sliver of it over to you."

Valas motioned to his subordinates. Two of them moved to flank the old man, disruptors pressed to either side of his head.

"In general, weak and aged prisoners like you are deemed a liability. Perhaps I should compel you to convince me otherwise."

"I'd like to see you compel me to do anything," the old man shot back.

Eyes narrowed, Valas pulled his own weapon from his belt and began to raise it. Just then, a woman broke from her place in line and flung herself in front of the old man. "Elias founded this colony almost single-handedly! He has every right to feel the way he does, and the truth is that most of us agree with him."

Valas could only marvel at this impertinence-so typical of humans, according to everything he'd heard about them. Such recklessness was nothing, however, compared to that of a much younger man who suddenly moved in front of both Terrans as if to shield them with his body. Valas' grimace deepened when he spotted the telltale hints of Vulcan ancestry in this one. What an irritating race he had always found them, with their smug notions of morality and their quaint belief in their own superiority.

"Maybe you have the weapons, but we won't sacrifice our dignity." The woman was still railing on, despite the Vulcan's whispered attempts to silence her. "We'll die ourselves before we'll let you harm anyone here!"

"That can easily be arranged." Valas pointed his disruptor toward the Vulcan, who paled and extended his arms protectively in front of the others. "This imprudent fool is your son?"

"No. Jarrod is my-" At last, the woman seemed to perceive the threat. A worried look came over her reddening face, and she quickly lowered her voice. "My husband."

"Oh? How entertaining. You defend this useless old one with your life, yet under cover of darkness you, too, prefer much fresher specimens."

A flash of her former defiance returned. "I prefer this one, yes."

Valas was about to order all three of them volatized when the men behind him began to murmur with excitement. "Look," someone-probably one of the prison recruits, who never had much sense of protocol-said aloud. "Enarrain is coming,"

Then the mumbling ceased, the troops falling back into hasty formation. And, sure enough, when Valas turned he saw a second group of soldiers just rounding the nearest knot of cottages. Walking in front of them was the Enarrain, their commander, the only man whose anger the men feared more than they feared Valas' own.

Valas, too, knew enough to stop what he was doing and offer a proper show of respect. Their Enarrain acknowledged his salute, then looked quizzically at the three prisoners still held at bay by the disruptors.

"These humans are making trouble, Enarrain Selyk. I believe it would be most expedient to kill them at once," Valas explained. Then he paused, unable to interpret the expression that suddenly came over his commander's face -- and, he thought, the Vulcan's. "Enarrain-do you know this man?"

After a brief but tense silence, Selyk shook his head. The jagged scar that slashed across his cheek crumpled into a serpentine curve as he scowled. "He reminds me of someone from my past-but no, I do not know him."

"Shall I proceed with the termination?"

"Not yet. Perhaps I will have more success in enlisting their compliance. Lower your weapons. Prisoners: if the three of you are so determined to meet your deaths this afternoon, perhaps I can do little to dissuade you. I can also do nothing to protect you unless you give me your allegiance. Being a leader is both a privilege and a curse, as you might know, old man. I prefer not to have my burden increased if I can avoid it. I find executions unpleasant, though sometimes necessary."

"This is a scientific colony," Jarrod said after the three of them had exchanged glances. "We don't especially care who we work under, as long as we can continue with our research. But we will not be enslaved."

"A commendably flexible attitude. In fact, we have a greater need for scientists than we do serfs. Perhaps Valas neglected to make that clear."

"Perhaps so, Enarrain," Valas said stiffly.

"Let the humans remain in their dwellings while I inspect our new property. Post a guard near each door if it will make you feel better, Valas." The scar changed shape again as his smile widened. His gaze swept the rows of neat cottages, interspersed with well-kept greenhouses and storage huts. In the distance, fields of tufted grains fluttered like gold sheets on the breeze, and brightly colored fruit trees sagged under their fragrant yield. "These surroundings please me. I think we will be comfortable here."

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The single room in which Spock had passed the previous three weeks was spotlessly clean, sparsely but adequately furnished, and even supplied with a few old-fashioned books to provide a modicum of entertainment. If not for the fact that the fourth wall consisted of a transparent but impenetrable force field, it might have looked like an ordinary hotel room or furnished lodging for rent.

Zarabeth thought it one of the most hideous rooms she had ever seen.

Spock stood beside the desk while security showed her inside and reactivated the force field.

"Are you well?" she asked him, cautiously, when they were alone again.

"I am not uncomfortable. The Embassy provides for my basic needs. I have never required many luxuries, as you know."

"They're still sending me your earnings, too. So you don't need to worry about that, even though T'Rhan might object."

"Naturally they would be required to do so; I have not been officially removed from my post. Being in protective custody does not require suspension from duty. For the moment, your position is secure. T'Rhan cannot and would not attempt to change that."

"They've also posted some extra security around the house. Perhaps they thought I wouldn't notice. But I did."

He nodded. "A sound precaution , considering that the charges against me involve espionage. Any additional officers are there to protect, not merely to observe."

"There hasn't been much to observe. We live quietly these days. Just going through the motions, really. There is one piece of news: Adonia has been granted leave, so she'll come to see you as soon as she gets here. I never did hear anything back from Jarrod. For all I know, he never got my communication. Don't worry, there was nothing in it that hasn't become common knowledge by now."

"Sensible. You, of all people, can appreciate the value of political discretion."

"Yes, I do. And while we're on that subject...." Her voiced trail off. She looked quizzically at him and then at the wall.

Spock nodded. "T'Rhan has ascertained that this general vicinity is devoid of concealed listening devices. You may therefore speak freely within this enclosure."

Relief washed over her with such force that she had to turn away. She knew he would not approve of the raw emotion on her face, never mind the long-suppressed tears that suddenly flooded her eyes.

"In that case, the first thing I want to tell you is how much I hate seeing you here. Maybe you can tolerate it, but I'm miserable at home. I don't sleep, I can barely eat...Spock, please. I've gone along with you on this until now, but just let me tell them what I really know. The truth is that neither one of us wanted Selyk as a son-in-law. No one would blame you for driving him away, and you can't be punished for choices he made. You're no more guilty of treason than I am. I'll even say it was my idea, if that would help."

"You know very well that it would not. In any case, their main contention is that I revealed Therov's location to Selyk. That information was to remain classified. Yet Selyk knew enough not only to locate, but to liberate him. Since I was one of the few who knew those details, it is reasonable that they would suspect me."

"But you never revealed that even to me. If I added that to my testimony-"

"The fact that I did not share my knowledge with my wife does not mean I did not entrust it to Selyk when he told me of his planned rescue attempt."

This time, she didn't bother to disguise her frustration. "What am I supposed to tell your father? He's written several times, wanting to know if T'Rhan is making progress. He doesn't trust me as it is, and now I have to tell him that she considers me the enemy, too?"

"The content of the hearings is confidential; no one will know what has transpired unless you reveal it. My father is aware of that. He will not press you for details."

"I told you from the beginning that this was a terrible idea . Bad enough I had to stand by and see you arrested, but having to testify against you...! The prosecution couldn't have compelled me to do it-only you could, and I wish I hadn't let you."

"You did what I asked of you. There is no cause for self-recrimination. For the moment, we must remain estranged. If I am to discover the true identity of Selyk's informant, it is necessary that I come as close to conviction as possible. "

"But Spock, what if you are convicted? Have you thought about that?"

"If so, I will alter my strategy accordingly." He paused suddenly, as if noticing her stricken expression for the first time. "As you must be aware, it is a question of serving the greater good. If I am disgraced, or worse, I am confident that you will endure. You are part of this time now; you no longer require my assistance to secure a future for yourself."

"And what makes you think I want one without you?"

Before he could respond, a security officer appeared on the other side of the force field and turned it off to admit T'Rhan herself.

"Why are you here?" she demanded when she saw Zarabeth.

"Spock is my husband. I have every right to see him."

"Debatable on both counts. In any event, I must insist that you leave at once. My client and I have legal matters to pursue, and I have no intention of doing so in front of a prosecution witness."

Zarabeth made a visible effort to control her outrage. "Very well. Spock, I will convey your messages to the children. And I will return if I find it necessary."

T'Rhan fixed her with a frosty look until she moved out of sight down the corridor and the force field hummed back to life. Then she moved to the desk and brusquely began to set up her computer.

"I can see that her betrayal disturbs you, Ambassador. Understandable, I suppose, but counterproductive. If you wish, I can restrict your visitors."

"Unnecessary. We had a minor domestic affair to resolve but have now done so. Let us move on."

"Very well." T'Rhan seated herself at the desk. "She has good reason to be contrite. I cannot deny that her testimony damaged your credibility, though at this point it is difficult to determine how much. And I must remind you that you are making my task immeasurably more difficult by refusing to present a defense. I can see that it is a matter of pride, but it is hardly sound legal technique."

Spock folded his hands behind his back and gazed at the wall behind her. "At the moment, I have not been charged with any specific offense. Therefore I maintain that it would be premature to contemplate a strategy for acquittal."

T'Rhan allowed herself a most un-Vulcan sigh. "Your father warned me that you'd be like this. But very well. I will focus my efforts on showing that the Federation has insufficient cause to indict you in the first place. I trust you will not come to regret this decision."

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From the window of their shared cabin, Leila and Jarrod watched the pack of mercenaries fan out across the colony. Small groups of them searched every building they came to and used both padds and old-fashioned paper to inventory their booty.

"They're probably disappointed at not finding any weapons," Leila said.

"Don't worry. I'm sure they brought plenty of their own."

"We saw a few of them up close, didn't we? Incidentally, thank you for coming to my aid out there. My temper could have gotten us killed."

He shook his head. "I think Selyk has other plans for us. He chose this landing spot for a reason. I did want to ask you, though-why did you tell them that we were married? You've always been dead-set against the idea."

"I...I was afraid they'd separate us. And I didn't want them thinking you were my son, for obvious reasons. I suppose it is a little strange, trying to look respectable in front of a crew of ex-cons and Romulan pirates."

"Well, Selyk knows exactly who we are. His little act didn't fool me for a moment."

"I don't even think it fooled his friends. Still, we'd best worry about that later. Right now we have work to do."

He nodded and they moved to the makeshift greenhouse they'd added onto the back of the cottage. There, amidst a jumble of lighting fixtures and twisted, liquid-bearing tubes, lay several tender rows of purplish seedlings.

Leila sighed. "I devoted my life to my studies long before you were born. I guess we'll find out soon enough if my efforts were worth it."


	3. Part 6 Ch 3

The Sarpeidon Chronicles Part 6

Chapter 3

Adonia spent the first morning of her shore leave gathering information in and around the base. By the time she was supposed to go and meet her mother and Lidia at the Embassy, she had learned rather more than she'd wished to.

She was moving toward the courtroom when, just ahead of her, a pair of security doors opened and a group of people came through. Most of them were green-shirted Embassy guards, and she saw that they were walking in formation around an enormous, rotund creature with a face that might have graced one of her younger sister's amphibious pets.

This, Adonia guessed, was I'gara, the Federation prison official whose reports had spurred the investigation into her father's activities. Presumably he was now on his way to testify and make things worse for all of them.

As the group passed her, a green-skinned aide leaned over and whispered something to I'gara, who suddenly looked up at Adonia and fixed her with his bulbous eyes. His expression was apologetic, almost pitying.

Adonia had to force herself not to blush. Was he sorry for her because of the damage he had done to her family, or because he also knew of her connection with Therov? Either way, she found his condescension most offensive.

Finally, just around the next corner, she found Zarabeth and Lidia waiting for her. It looked as though they'd been arguing—not exactly unusual at any time, but almost to be expected lately. They greeted Adonia as if relieved for the distraction.

"The hearing started about two hours ago," Lidia said, glancing at the closed door of the courtroom, where two posted guards maintained judicial secrecy. "We haven't heard anything yet."

Adonia decided not to mention I'gara's presence. If her suspicions were correct, they would all know soon enough.

"Were you able to see Spock this morning?" her mother asked.

"I presented myself well in advance of the stated visiting hours, but T'Rhan would not allow me an audience. A most unpleasant woman."

"She certainly is."

"Hopefully, Grandfather's confidence in her is not misplaced. I am less certain why Father is going along with a defense strategy that seems at best dubious and at worst nonexistent."

"We just have to believe that he has his reasons."

"Speaking of thatI suppose you had reasons for your own contribution to the case, Mother?"

"You couldn't possibly know anything about that." Zarabeth's tone became defensive. What happens in that courtroom is supposed to be confidential."

"Oh? You might be surprised how easy it is to pick up gossip around the base, especially when one is in uniform."

"Adonia, leave it alone," Lidia interrupted suddenly. "Mother has enough on her mind without you throwing your new rank around. We're not on a starship and we don't have to answer to you. Let T'Rhan prepare his defense as she sees best. Are you now a legal expert, too?"

"I expected you would respond that way," her sister shot back. "The situation at hand is, after all, largely your fault. If you had sent Selyk away on your own, Father would not have felt obligated to intervene."

"If you believe that blaming me will intensify my chagrin, you are mistaken. This ordeal has already placed a significant burden on me, to say nothing of what it has done to Sumarr. I suppose you know that he was forced to take a leave of absence from his position at the school now that the details of his background have become public knowledge? Embassy personnel don't want their children learning Vulcan from a Romulan. Aside from the fact that scholarship has been the foundation of his life for decades, that means I must now teach all his students as well as my own."

Adonia raised a brow. "Forgive me if I demonstrate a lack of concern over Sumarr's fortunes, except as they impact Father's—and, to a lesser degree, yours."

"I knew you wouldn't understand. Sumarr has been my mentor and my friend since I was a student myself. I owe him my loyalty. You're as stubborn as Father is, and always have been. Surely you see my point, Mother."

"Actually, my pity for Sumarr is also somewhat limited. But I do agree that accusing one another won't make things easier for any of us. We all want the same thing where your father is concerned, despite what misguided outsiders might think."

The sisters fell silent, eyeing each other warily.

"I must get back to the school," Lidia said finally. "I have students waiting for me."

Zarabeth and Adonia watched as she hurried away.

"Honestly, Mother, I thought you could keep the household together a little better than this in my absence. Perhaps I should have requested shore leave more often."

"It seems I could have used the help."

The moment of shared humor, and the relief it brought, proved fleeting. Soon enough, Adonia's faint scowl returned.

"I really have heard some disturbing things this morning, Mother. Still, I refuse to believe you would deliberately sabotage Father's chances for acquittal. Therefore I await your explanation."

"Very well. But we can't talk about it here or at home. Your father is convinced that the house is being monitored in a variety of ways."

Adonia stared in disbelief. "He thinks the Embassy has initiated surveillance of our private activities? That goes against every principle of diplomatic immunity the Federation has ever endorsed."

"It's not the Embassy's doing. At least, we don't think so. But as I said, this isn't the place to discuss it. Somewhere in the city would be better—the more noise there is around us, the less likely we are to be overheard."

"Let us go, then. We can accomplish nothing by remaining here."

"I suppose you're right. Adonia—you mustn't repeat a single word of what I'm going to tell you. Not to your grandfather, T'Rhan, or even Lidia."

"Presumably because this information is not meant for Sumarr's consumption."

"Exactly."

A few people turned to look at them as they rode the tram from the Embassy into the city. Before long, however, they were able to blend into the busy throng of Starfleet officials and civilians who packed the midday streets near the base. An outdoor table, chosen at random and surrounded by groups of jabbering tourists and serving carts bearing heaps of clanking dishes seemed a promising refuge from prying eyes and listening devices alike.

"I'm sure I don't have to brief you on the current state of Romulan/Federation relations," Zarabeth began.

Adonia nodded. "It's no secret that they've been gathering intelligence . When I first heard what was happening here, I assumed that Father had been caught in some unfortunate political crossfire. Selyk's defection was poorly timed, but I failed to see then how it could possibly reflect on anyone's judgment but his own. And possibly Lidia's."

"That's the way we all looked at it, at first. Gradually, it began to seem that much more was going on. Selyk didn't simply defect—he returned to Federation space with reinforcements, then headed straight for a classified location and liberated a prison full of former spies and insurgents."

"With Therov at the top of the list. I suppose it makes sense that someone would imagine a connection. It's hardly evidence of treason, though."

"The Federation Security Council feels differently. In any case, there have been other leaks, not all from this Embassy. Targeting your father must have seemed a good way to quiet some of the Council's more paranoid factions. Trust me, it's a strategy I've seen before."

Adonia considered this, stirring her tea a bit more forcefully than necessary. "I never doubted that these charges were both politically motivated and false. However, that still does not tell me why no one, including you, seems to be making any real effort to have them dismissed."

"We haven't done anything because your father doesn't want us to. It's his intention to stand trial, even be convicted if it comes to that. Through it all, he wants everyone, even T'Rhan, to believe that the rest of us have turned against him. He's convinced that it's the only way to draw the real traitor into the open."

"I confess I fail to follow his reasoning."

"His theory is that the case is being followed closely by whoever has been colluding with the Romulans. By not refuting the charges in court, and suggesting that he no longer wishes to return home, he hopes to imply that he is sympathetic to their cause. At some point, they will approach him and invite him into their ranks. When that happens, he plans to expose their treachery and exonerate himself."

Adonia was dumbfounded. "Such a plan is risky to the point of foolhardiness. What guarantee does he have that the traitor in question won't be content to let another go to prison in his place and simply continue or even increase his activities?"

"The same thought occurred to me, but he insists that the Romulans wouldn't pass up the opportunity to enlist a benefactor of his stature. And as Lidia just reminded us, stubbornness has always been his most predominant trait." Zarabeth sighed. "Apparently he's driving even T'Rhan mad, but he refuses to confide in her. No one can be trusted, according to him. After all, Romulans have successfully disguised themselves as Vulcans in the past."

"Yes—and speaking of that, it seems to me that we need look no further than Sumarr when it comes to Federation citizens with conflicted loyalties."

"Oddly enough, Sumarr is the one person your father doesn't suspect. Even though he was granted political asylum here, no one has ever really trusted him. Security has discreetly monitored his activities for years. Unfortunately, they neglected to do the same for Selyk."

"Hm." Far from convinced, Adonia finished her tea and watched her mother push a mostly untouched lunch around on the plate. "You really should eat something, Mother. I see now why this has taken such a toll on you, but you mustn't allow your health to become compromised. After all, we have no reason to doubt that Father's plan is as sound as any other he's come up with over the years. If it does fail, we are not necessarily helpless."

"Please, Adonia, don't involve yourself. You have a career to think about now. He doesn't want you to jeopardize that."

"My career will be worth little or nothing if I am branded the daughter of a traitor. I'm surprised he didn't realize that."

"I'm sure he knew—" Zarabeth abruptly stopped speaking when a shadow fell across their table. Instead of a café employee, they found themselves looking up at a diminutive but officious humanoid male with an Embassy pass pinned to his shirt.

"I apologize for disturbing your lunch, ladies. However, I have an urgent communication for you, Lieutenant." He held up a padd, which Adonia stood and accepted.

"Is it from Starfleet?"

"Er—not exactly. That, Lieutenant, is a subpoena issued by the Federation Security Council itself. You are hereby ordered to testify at your father's hearing the first thing tomorrow morning."

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When they entered the cabin, Selyk was stretched out on a body pillow with his feet crossed and a dish of succulent, ruddy fruits carefully balanced on his stomach.

"The prisoner you requested, Enarrain," The Romulan said as he shoved Jarrod inside.

Selyk nodded. "Leave us. I will interrogate him in private." When they were alone, he pointed to a smaller pillow in the corner. "Pull that over and sit down. I wish to talk to you."

"Not a very effective means of torture," Jarrod said as he reluctantly dragged the pillow forward.

"Oh, that can wait until I've finished my dinner." Selyk shrugged and raised one of the fruits to his mouth. "Meanwhile, you and I can converse like the old friends that we are. How fares your sister?" he asked between mouthfuls.

"I'm surprised you remember her. Your life is so different now."

"Of course I do. Lidia was a sweet girl. I cared for her in my own way."

"In a very limited way, you mean."

"Should I have married her, then? You and my father must be the only two people in the universe who think so. For my part, I thought it best to leave as I did, and so did your father. A pity his generosity came back to haunt him, but that's Federation justice for you."

"Actually, based on what I saw in the yard, I couldn't envision a worse husband for anyone. You would have killed an old man to look strong in front of your men."

"I do what I must to keep order. My men are mercenaries—they follow me only because they fear me. It wasn't easy to earn their respect, and it's been even harder to keep it. If the life of one worthless old man is the price of command, I'm willing to pay."

"How unselfish of you. Still, I am grateful that you didn't reveal my true identity. I realize I could be a valuable hostage."

"I haven't forgotten that. And I won't, so be mindful of how you act with me."

"All right. If that's how you want it."

Selyk leaned back on the cushion with a thoughtful expression. "I haven't given up hope that you retain at least a little of your former rebellious spirit. I'd wager that domesticity suits you as ill as it did me—though I understand why you might make an exception for Leila. I remember Lidia telling me that she was once your father's mistress. You must enjoy taking what was once his each night. See what I mean? That speaks of spirit."

"If these are the kinds of things you discussed with my sister, I'm not surprised that she didn't mourn your departure."

"Didn't she? How disappointing. I suppose I'll recover, but maybe she'll forgive me when I offer sanctuary to your family. That is contingent upon your joining me, of course."

"You can't be planning to conquer Amphitrite."

"I would like to see the old place again, and it wouldn't hurt to add a few more crafts to our fleet. But it's so far away at the moment. Therov and I have decided to work our way there slowly. We'll discuss it further in a few days, when he arrives with his own forces. By then I had planned to propose that all three of us work together. I'm sure you know that I didn't bring my men here by chance. It occurred to me some time ago that this place would do well as a training camp. A number of my men are renegades and former prisoners with little formal instruction in the art of warfare. You could assist me, since you have Starfleet experience and more knowledge of the Federation's inner workings than any civilian in the quadrant."

"Absolutely not!"

Selyk snorted, wolfed down the rest of the fruit in his hand, and threw the remnants on the floor. "Then Leila and the old man will die. Cooperate, and none of you will suffer any harm at our hands. Now this conversation is beginning to bore me. Go before my good will toward you dissipates."

Jarrod stood up, barely able to contain his outrage. "For their sake only, I'll think it over. In return, Selyk, I must ask one favor of you. Those particular fruits you and your men are enjoying so much—Leila has pointed out to me that the growing season is almost over, and we'll need some to harvest for next year. She wondered if you might consider rationing them until we have a sufficient quantity in storage."

"What an amusing idea." Steely-eyed, Selyk deliberately took another fruit from the bowl and bit into it with a flourish. "Particularly since you might not live that long."

"I promised her I'd ask you, and I did. I really have nothing more to say at the moment."

He left Selyk happily extracting one of the thick, pulpy seeds with his front teeth.

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Naj Ahkafr approached the witness chair with such obvious enthusiasm that Adonia was convinced he was salivating. If her father noticed her discomfort, he gave no outward sign of concern. As far as she could tell, he wasn't even taking notes on the padd T'Rhan had provided for him.

"Please describe for the record your current position in Starfleet," the prosecutor directed.

"I serve as stellar cartographer on the U.S.S. Oberon, holding the rank of Lieutenant."

"Your vessel's purpose is almost exclusively scientific, is it not?"

"It is."

"You were recently informed by your commanding officer of a developing situation in a distant sector. Please disclose the content of that briefing to the court." Ahkafr tilted a padd in her direction. "As you can see, I have obtained Starfleet's permission for you to share this information, with the understanding that it will not leave this room."

"Very well. Approximately a week ago, my commanding officer informed me that a number of displaced colonists had recently arrived at Starbase 28, complaining that they had been forced to evacuate their adopted home world because of Romulan activity in the sector. The colonists suggested that Starfleet take steps to ensure the well-being of the friends they had left behind."

"Was the name of this home world Gamma Aurelius?"

"It was."

"Do you know anything about it?"

"I know it's been a disputed territory for several decades. The Federation has never officially claimed it, nor had much interest in it because of its remote location and the moderately primitive conditions its colonists prefer to maintain."

"Now, Lieutenant, I mean no disrespect in saying this, but why would Starfleet Command approach you, a junior officer on a small scientific vessel, with such sensitive military intelligence?"

Adonia hesitated. "I expect it was because my brother also lives on Gamma Aurelius."

"And did he evacuate with the others?"

"No. To the best of my knowledge, he is still there."

"Can you explain why your brother, the son of Ambassador Spock, would remain on a planet facing imminent invasion by Romulans?"

"We have no confirmation that any Romulans actually arrived. To this day it remains a matter of speculation."

"But Starfleet is pursuing a line of inquiry."

"Yes, that's true."

"Who else do you know on Gamma Aurelius?"

"Only one Terran—though it would be more accurate to say that I know of her. We have never actually met."

"And that would be Leila Kalomi, the colony's chief botanist."

"Yes."

"Did she also remain on Gamma Aurelius in spite of a possible Romulan incursion?"

"Apparently so."

"She was once a close acquaintance of your father?"

"I believe they met when they were both younger than I am now. At Starfleet Academy."

"And it would be accurate to say that they have maintained their acquaintance over the years, since she was recently a guest at your home."

"I wouldn't know. I wasn't there."

"Her presence on Amphitrite is a matter of public record, Lieutenant."

"Objection." T'Rhan stood. "The witness has already stated that she has no direct knowledge of such a visit. She can hardly verify hearsay."

"Sustained," the Arbiter said in a weary voice. "Pursue another line of questioning, Prosecutor."

"Very well. Lieutenant, does the name Therov mean anything to you?"

"He was a friend of my brother's. A long time ago."

"And he, too, was a frequent guest at your house following both their expulsions from Starfleet Academy?"

"Yes—ten years ago!"

"And do you know where he is now, following his escape from Governor I'gara's custody?"

"I do not."

"Indeed. As you said yourself a moment ago, to this day it remains a matter of speculation. Your witness, T'Rhan."

Her jaw clenched in determination, T'Rhan glanced back at Spock and then strode purposefully forward.

"Lieutenant, what is the general feeling about your father at Starfleet Academy?"

"He's something of a legend."

"Have you ever known him to act traitorously?"

"No. Quite the contrary."

"And have you ever heard any suggestion from anyone else that he has been less than a model Federation citizen and official throughout his long and celebrated career?"

"Not until I met Prosecutor Ahkafr."

From his place at the prosecution table, Ahkafr smiled again, as if pleased to hear her speak his name with such contempt. Adonia realized that nothing she or anyone else could say would have the slightest effect on his attitude. The truth was an entirely peripheral issue as far as he was concerned; his sole objective was to destroy her father utterly.


	4. 64

The Sarpeidon Chronicles Part 6

Chapter 4

T'Rhan arrived early for her usual pre-hearing strategy session with her client, only to find him as taciturn as ever. He offered little more than a perfunctory greeting as she opened her computer and took her place behind the cell's utterly inadequate desk.

"I have been in communication with your father," she informed him curtly. "He had quite a bit to say about the manner in which your defense is proceeding. Or perhaps 'not proceeding' would be a more accurate description."

"His attempt to become involved is unsurprising, though inappropriate. I trust that you reminded him of that."

"I told him that as your advocate, I am bound to keep the content of our discussions confidential. He agreed, but he did offer a few suggestions based on his past experiences with you. Chief among them was that you should make every effort to cooperate with me. After all, Sarek engaged me because of my expertise in diplomatic law. I can hardly demonstrate that if you will not allow me to do so."

When Spock said nothing, she turned to her notes.

"Perhaps we should begin. I have been considering Governor I'gara's account of what transpired during Therov's prison break. As you know, the standards of admissibility are somewhat lower in this hearing than they will be in front of an actual judicial panel. The governor may have swayed the arbiter, but all he really has to offer is a spontaneous remark he overheard from a distance. The highly stressful situation may have caused him to misinterpret it. Therefore, I feel confident that I can have his testimony rendered inadmissible in front of a real jury. I spent most of last night researching precedents. I believe I have found several that will serve our purposes." Looking up, she waited in vain for his response. "You are not attending me."

"I was unaware that you required my input. After all, you did assert your superior competence only moments ago."

"So you listened to that much, at least." T'Rhan's brows drew together in barely concealed irritation. "Your apathy is unproductive, to say the least. "

"On the contrary." His voice remained steely, his expression impenetrable. "Since this hearing began, I have complied with every request you have made of me. I have also given you autonomy to present my case as you think best. In some cases, I have concealed my own disagreement with your tactics. Overall, I fail to see what more you could expect of me."

"A profession of innocence might prove a sound option."

"You know that I am not required to present a defense, much less enter a plea. All we are required to do at this stage is prevent the Security Council from bringing formal charges against me. That is, I assume, the avenue you are pursuing."

"It is. Surely you must realize, however, that our chances of blocking an indictment are slim to nonexistent. I neglected to mention this earlier, since I hoped to encourage your cooperation through other means, but there has been a discouraging development. It appears that Naj Ahkafr has had your daughter Lidia followed almost daily for the past few weeks. Were you aware that she spends a good portion of every afternoon inside Sumarr's home?"

Spock flinched at that; T'Rhan did not think she had imagined his reaction, nearly imperceptible though it would have been to a non-Vulcan.

"No doubt she could offer a suitable explanation," he said stiffly. "They are colleagues, after all."

"Not any longer. Sumarr resigned his position at the Embassy school soon after his true identity became known. Circumstances left him little choice."

"Indeed."

T'Rhan sighed. "I don't suppose forbidding her to associate with him is an option. She is rather like her mother, is she not? Stubborn."

"Her mother would say that she is more like me."

"I will not argue with that. However, we might still be able to use her involvement to our advantage. What I suggest we do is prepare a response to the Security Council's charges-one that asserts that your temporary affiliation with Selyk was simply an attempt to rid your daughter of an unwelcome suitor. We need not confess anything with respect to your knowledge of his Romulan identity. Admittedly, it is rather thin as defenses go. However, we must remember that the Arbiter, and most potential jurors, are emotional beings. We might be able to sway them on that basis."

"As I have already stated, I do not wish to present a defense. Nor am I prepared to stipulate anything with respect to my association with Selyk."

"Frankly, I suspected that might be your response. Very well, then, we'll have to continue discrediting the witnesses. That might not be as difficult as I first supposed, thanks to some information your father supplied. I understand your wife was once convicted of treason herself. That should cause something of a stir when I bring it up in my rebuttal."

"If my father told you that, he was in error. He does not have access to all the pertinent facts."

"And neither do I-because you refuse to grant it, for reasons I find inexplicable. I have heard of humans reacting in such a way when their wives leave them, but I confess I am disappointed that you would follow suit, Ambassador. Life imprisonment cannot be preferable to distancing yourself from your current...circumstances." Pursing her lips, T'Rhan punched at her computer with slightly more force than was required. "On the other hand, I can understand your reluctance to take this entire matter seriously. One would think that the Federation would have more confidence in you, after your many years of distinguished service to their causes. Perhaps you have spent too much time with humans. Though I realize you share their heritage, their perfidy suggests that you might be unwise to remain among them. If we are successful in having these charges dismissed, you should consider returning to Vulcan. Your own people would respect your contributions more."

"Surely any such consideration would be premature."

"Is it? Your wife will divorce you; it is the way of emotional beings to change their allegiances on a whim. If you are convicted, I believe I can convince the Federation to remand you to the custody of the High Council. On Vulcan, you could join yourself to a woman who will remain loyal to you. Not all are as foolish as she has been."

Finally, although his arms remained folded, Spock did raise his eyes to hers. His brows drew together as she met his stare without flinching. "What you propose is unrealistic. I shall, after all, be confined, possibly for the remainder of my life."

"You assume that I speak in the abstract. Prisons are merely structures...and every structure contains an exit, however covert. I have connections on Vulcan that might surprise you. They might benefit you as well, if such a course of action became necessary."

He looked quizzically at her. "Explain."

"Not now. We are due at the hearing in less than an hour. At present, simply do me the courtesy of considering my words. If future events warrant, I shall remind you of them under more appropriate circumstances."

"I assure you that I shall consider them with the greatest interest."

For the first time, T'Rhan was convinced that she had claimed his full attention. Satisfied, she turned back to her computer screen and carried on with her legal preparations.

* * *

After yet another frustrating afternoon of lingering in the Embassy corridors and learning little or nothing about the status of Spock's case, Zarabeth and Adonia returned glumly to the house. There they found Kai waiting for them, hours before the usual end of the Embassy School day.

"Why are you home?" Zarabeth asked. "Your lessons cannot possibly have ended for the day."

"Lidia is here as well. Security escorted us both a few hours ago. My instructors felt I could make more progress studying independently, and I agreed. Besides, I was tired of answering my classmates' questions. Presumably Lidia felt the same."

"How considerate of her to remove you from such an unpleasant situation, however disruptive it might be to your education," Adonia said when she noticed Lidia at the top of the stairs, close enough to hear her. "Still, I suppose we can take some comfort in knowing that she has not ruined only Father's career, but her own as well."

"I thought we agreed to stop quarreling among ourselves," Zarabeth admonished.

"Pointing out the truth is hardly quarrelling, Mother, even if Lidia would prefer not to hear it."

"I can assure you that I have not been dismissed from my position," Lidia retorted, her cheeks coloring. "I simply decided that it would be prudent for both of us to pursue our studies here. As it happens, I was correct. Shortly after we arrived, we received a communication from Grandfather."

"Oh? What did he say?"

"He regrets that he is unable to be here in person, but he is monitoring the proceedings as best he can," Kai volunteered. "Also, in the event that we are turned out of Embassy housing, he has offered us shelter with him on Vulcan."

"I see. How generous," Zarabeth said without enthusiasm.

"Another excellent reason to secure Father's acquittal." Adonia crossed her arms and fixed her sister with a withering stare. Lidia, in turn, talked past her as if she were totally oblivious to her presence.

"There was also a message for Adonia. It is encoded, so I can offer no details. Presumably it is from Starfleet."

"Perhaps I'm being summoned to a court martial as well. I'll let you know momentarily." Suddenly ill at ease, Adonia turned and left the room.

"I fail to see why she is so angry with me." Lidia's fingers curled into fists. "However unworthy Selyk proved himself to be, I never considered myself the least bit infatuated with him. The same could not be said of her and Therov."

"She knows that. It's probably the main reason she is so angry. Lidia...I don't suppose there were any other messages? Anything about your brother, for example?"

"No. Of course, communications from that sector have always been notoriously slow. There is no reason to suppose that he didn't leave Gamma Aurelius soon after the others did. If so, he may simply be unable to send word to us. I am confident that we will hear from him eventually."

"I haven't stopped hoping that one day, I'll return from the city and find him already here. As terrible as it is to think of your father being in custody, at least we know where he is-and that he's alive."

"This isn't the first time we've had to trust Jarrod's survival instincts. He's always managed to find his way back. He will again."

A few moments later, Adonia returned. "I'm afraid I have unwelcome news for you, Mother."

Zarabeth paled. "I'm afraid to ask how things could get any worse."

"Then I will spare you the uncertainty. My shore leave has been cancelled. A shuttle is leaving for Starbase 6 in two hours, and I am to be aboard it."

"Oh, no."

"There's more. A surveillance probe has confirmed Romulan activity near Gamma Aurelius. Starfleet has reason to believe that Therov's forces are indeed gathering there. There are more of them than we anticipated: four ships so far, apparently the spoils of piracy. Two of them remain in orbit around the planet."

"And Jarrod may still be there."

"It's possible. In any events, all available starships are to assemble at strategic points along the Neutral Zone, both as a show of force and as a precautionary measure."

"You'll only be on border patrol, then," Lidia said with relief.

"Not exactly. Since she is accustomed to dealing with Therov, Admiral Taylor is assuming temporary command of the Wellfleet and is heading directly to Gamma Aurelius. For obvious reasons, she has requested my presence on the mission. I have already sent her my acceptance. "

"You might have discussed it with me first!"

"I apologize for causing you more grief, but my duty is clear. You must excuse me now. I have little time to gather my belongings and report to the launch site."

They watched in agonized silence as she hurried up the stairs. On the landing, Adonia paused and looked down at them. "Lidia, I would prefer to go without taking our differences with me. While I am away, I trust that you will conduct yourself as I would have done."

"I...I'm not at all sure that I can."

"In that case, I can only encourage you to guard yourself against harm." Frowning, she turned and continued on her way.

"At least she'll be able to send us news of Jarrod," Lidia said in an effort to console her mother. "We must respect the life she has chosen for herself, even if we cannot agree with all her decisions. Father will understand why she had to go."

"Yes-I know he will." Zarabeth tried, and failed, to choke back her tears. "She really is very much like him."

* * *

For the fourth night in a row, Therov kept Selyk and Jarrod up late, reviewing yet another set of star charts taken from the ships he'd commandeered. As the hours wore on and the night grew more humid, his temper became much quicker to ignite. Finally, sensing that he had lost their attention, he slammed down the holographic projection device he'd been using and confronted Jarrod.

"You seem to disagree with my calculations, yet you offer no specific suggestions for correcting them," he barked. "I did not take you into my confidence because I missed your smug disdain. Frankly, it was scarcely bearable when we were young, and it is even more offensive now. Speak!"

"Very well, if you insist. I think your plan is ambitious to a foolish degree. Do you really think that established colonies and settlements, even those without Federation sponsorship, will follow you as readily as your current gaggle of convicts and buccaneers?"

"They can follow me or die. It worked well enough in your case."

"Not every colony is like Gamma Aurelius. Besides, if you do manage to become Regent of half the galaxy, how will you maintain control over so many worlds all at once? You'll be forced to appoint a different lieutenant for each new conquest. Eventually one or more of them is going to decide that he can do a more efficient job than you can. Once your tapestry starts to fray, it won't take the Federation long to unravel the rest of it. Perhaps you've spent too many years in a small prison cell, because you haven't taken the broader view in this situation."

"And you, friend, have even less vision now than you did ten years ago!" Therov banged his fist on the table with such force that a splash of Romulan ale leaped from his cup. Wild-eyed, he swung around to Selyk. "You're hardly more helpful than he is. What do you have to say?"

Selyk shrugged. "Jarrod is overly cautious, and you are too eager to throw yourself into the fire. What we need is someone who values restraint and espouses the Golden Mean. I see myself fulfilling that role quite successfully."

Therov snorted, and Jarrod got up.

"Since you're not inclined to listen to anything I have to say, I'm going to bed. This has gone on too long already."

"Go, then-we wouldn't want you to be punished for staying out too late. But we will continue this tomorrow, perhaps when you're feeling more tractable."

Scowling, Jarrod pushed his way past the guards at the door and strode off into the night.

"We'll have to kill him, you know," Therov said when he and Selyk were alone again.

"I feared as much." Selyk sighed and reached for the depleted bowl of fruit that sat beside him. He polished off the last of its contents, then greedily licked his fingertips. "In this case, though, I have no desire to quibble with your logic."

"Go easy on those victuals, brother," Therov admonished. "When we do leave this rock, you'll be too fat to fit in your command seat."

"I'll chance it. The flavor beguiles me no less than it does the rest of our men. Perhaps the Federation really is wise to fund the old man's agricultural research."

"Yes. If Leila's other talents equal those she displays in the greenhouse, maybe we should spare her after all."

Smirking, Therov crossed the cabin and reached into the larder, which held another bushel of the coveted fruits. He tossed one to Selyk, who continued to laugh even after his mouth was again full.

* * *

Jarrod returned to the cabin he shared with Leila to find her asleep on top of the covers, as if she had dozed off waiting for him. Settling beside her, he moved a few strands of hair from her forehead. With a murmur, she inched closer to him, then suddenly opened her eyes.

They widened slightly, and her expression froze. Slowly, she seemed to recover her senses and reached for his hand.

"What happened?"

He shook his head. "Therov is mad, as we suspected, and Selyk might be even more insane to listen to him. Then again, I once did the same. The difference was that I didn't have a stolen fleet and an army of hostages to help do his bidding."

"You know they won't have the chance. String them along. Give it a little more time."

Jarrod stared at the floor for a long time, biting his lower lip until it turned raw and painful.

"Perhaps we're going about this all wrong. Perhaps I should go with them willingly. Therov would give me an insignificant little planet somewhere-I could set up an entire world just to my liking. I can't deny that it's a tempting fantasy."

"You won't." She squeezed his fingers, which remained motionless against hers. "You're too good a man for that."

"How do you know? Treason flows through my blood-from both sides, it appears."

"Because you believe in doing what's right. And participating in a coup, with an eye to becoming a despot, isn't something that would appeal to you."

"I wouldn't have thought so either...once. But people can change, Leila. Especially once they've been betrayed. It's easier to do evil once it's been done to you."

When he looked back at her, he found her staring as if she were trying to make sense of his words. All he could think about, though, was her instinctive reaction when he'd entered the room. In her dream, she'd expected someone else. He knew who.


	5. Chapter 5

The Sarpeidon Chronicles

Part 6 Chapter 5

Spock and his younger son sat facing each other across his detention cell's tiny desk. There, Kai had set up an antique chess set that covered nearly its entire surface.

"Grandfather sent it for you," he explained to his father as he removed the pieces one by one from a cloth-lined box and handed them across the desk. "He thought you could use it to pass the time, though he acknowledges that suitable opponent s may be scarce."

"There are advantages to studying the game in a purely objective manner."

"The workmanship is commendable." Spock turned over a pawn in his fingers. The figurine was costumed as a Vulcan warrior of old, complete with lirpa held close to his armor-covered torso. "I must confess my surprise that Embassy security allowed me to receive it."

"Grandfather obtained the necessary clearances, and Mother consulted Federation guidelines on the matter," Kai said proudly. "By law, you are forbidden only automated and cybernetic devices. Gifts that serve a purely aesthetic or sentimental function are permitted."

"I see." Spock placed the pawn on the board. Zarabeth would have found the 'sentimental' clause ironic, he thought. Of every detainee who had ever slept within these impenetrable walls, Spock had no doubt that he was the least sentimental. Nonetheless, she would have forged ahead with her plan. As he had so many times in the past, he paused to admire his wife's persistence, misguided though it might often be.

"How fares your mother?" he asked finally, while Kai continued to assemble the chess pieces.

"Tolerably well. All of us do what is necessary to make our days productive. Lidia has adopted several new amphibious specimens. They keep her busy now that she is not teaching...except for supervising my studies, of course. Adonia informs us that the Wellfleet will reach Gamma Aurelius in another day or so. We have had no word of Jarrod, though that is of course understandable, given the circumstances."

"Quite true. You-and your mother-should keep in mind that we heard from him infrequently in any case."

"Mother says that it is her nature to worry incessantly. It seems to me an impractical trait to retain, given the present circumstances."

"Nonetheless, she is unlikely to change at this stage of her life."

Kai scowled. "Father...is it true that you are prepared to spend the rest of your life in custody? Away from all of us?"

"If the Federation Council demands it, I will have no choice. It would therefore make little sense for me not to accept the possibility."

They looked up as an Embassy security guard returned to his position outside the cell. He seemed to purposely make as much noise as possible while he approached, as if to alert them to his presence out of courtesy. Not so long ago, these same officers had been under his command. They were still uncomfortable with, even embarrassed by, the abrupt change in his status. In some ways, Spock thought, his own family had adjusted to it better.

"Excuse me, Ambassador. Time is almost up," the guard said, flushing slightly. He looked at Kai. "Your mother is here for you."

"He will be along shortly," Spock said. Nodding, the guard withdrew-temporarily, they both knew.

Kai stood. "I look forward to a chess match when you are released, Father."

"As do I."

"Grandfather says your current predicament is very much like a chess game. It's simply a matter of situating the appropriate players in the appropriate positions."

"In this case he may well be correct."

The boy's hand strayed over the board, to the rows of pieces now set up in their proper positions. From the third level he removed the king, carved in the likeness of a familiar historical figure. His eyes met his father's with sudden, unusual intensity.

"When faced with such dilemmas, Grandfather advises you to turn your full concentration to the powers of Surak. Through him, one may know and hear all. That is his message to you in this time of crisis."

Frowning, Spock followed the child to his feet and accepted the chess piece from him. He began to say one thing, then stopped and changed his tone entirely.

"You may tell Grandfather that I will consider his advice very carefully."

Kai nodded as the guard ushered him out and reactivated the force field. At the end of the long corridor that led to the detention block, Spock glimpsed Zarabeth waiting for their son. Banned from his cell at T'Rhan's official request, she could observe him only from a distance and communicate with him only through a third party.

Perhaps that was for the best, at least for the moment. If he were to go to prison, perhaps for the rest of his long life, it would only be logical-and kind-to free her. She would survive the loss of him, just as she had survived many other, and far more painful, losses.

Still, he remembered her stricken expression when he had told her, the night before it happened, that his arrest was imminent. Perhaps it was the same devastated look she had worn when the news of her family's capture had reached her.

While they stood, looking at each other from across that sterile stretch of hallway, Spock reached out cautiously with his mind. He tried to reassure her of a satisfactory resolution he only half expected himself.

But her face never changed, and he could not tell if she received his message.

* * *

Gamma Aurelius was still a distant point on the Wellfleet's long-range scanners when they found the smaller craft floating aimlessly toward them.

"Starfleet records identify it as the Kraken, a trading vessel commandeered from the colony at Anubis VII a month ago," Adonia informed the rest of the bridge crew after consulting the viewer at her station. "It appears to be disabled. No shields, no warp signature."

"And not cloaked," Taylor mused. "Odd, if it was confiscated by the Romulans."

"A decoy, Admiral," the tactical officer suggested. "Or a trap."

"Possibly." Taylor rubbed her hands together in thought. "What do our scans show?"

"No life forms aboard-dead or alive. It would appear that all systems on board are down, including life support."

"Perhaps the craft malfunctioned and they were forced to abandon it," Adonia suggested.

"We'll know soon enough." Taylor motioned to her tactical officer. "Arm a team and go over there. Keep a channel open at all times so we can beam you back at the first hint of trouble."

"Yes, Admiral."

The next few minutes passed slowly, even painfully, as the bridge crew waited, saying little. While the chronometer ticked, Taylor kept a close watch on Adonia, who bent over her work and didn't look back.

Finally the com buzzed.

"On screen," Taylor ordered.

Tactical Officer Klass appeared, encased in life-support armor. "We have confirmed that there is no one on board, Admiral," he reported. "We've located supplies that appear to have been looted from Gamma Aurelius, but whoever took them has abandoned ship for reasons unknown. I'm retrieving the log, but it hasn't been updated in weeks."

"No surprise there. Pirates and insurgents generally don't keep detailed records of their activities."

"Agreed." Klass paused and tilted his head. The bridge crew heard a garbled sound as another member of his team relayed a message via the earpiece inside his helmet. Klass murmured his acknowledgement and looked up. "We've found a possible clue, Admiral. There seems to have been unusually heavy activity in the Kraken's sickbay. It's a small area-and it's a shambles. It's as if they were looking for something. Whether they found it or not, we can't say. We'll continue to search."

"Very well. Keep the channel open and report in fifteen minutes."

"Aye, sir." Klass stepped out of view, though they could still see the deserted interior of the Kraken's darkened bridge. Somehow, Taylor suspected, they would find no definitive answers there.

The Wellfleet would reach Gamma Aurelius in another fourteen hours. They would know more, much more, then.

But the waiting wasn't getting any easier.

* * *

Zarabeth, her son and daughter sat glumly around the dinner table until late in the evening. They spoke little as they poked at their vegetables. The house seemed abnormally quiet in other ways, too.

"Adonia was correct," Lidia ventured at last. "This was my fault."

"That's not true," Zarabeth said.

"Of course it is. I brought Selyk into this house. It was because of me that Father involved himself in this sordid business. And it's my fault no one will believe him now."

"How could any of us have known what Selyk was planning? He may not have known it himself at the time. We should be grateful for one thing-that you didn't actually marry him."

Lidia's face colored as she deliberately flattened a thick red legume with the back of her spoon. "Your forgiveness is welcome, Mother, though I maintain that I do not deserve it."

"I just find it grotesque." Zarabeth turned away from them and looked out the window, her eyes misting. "Your father is willing to sacrifice everything for the same Federation that calls him a traitor. I don't see how they could possibly believe it."

"The truth will come out," Kai said. "The odds favor it. Grandfather said as much."

Zarabeth nodded. At least Kai wouldn't mind taking refuge with Sarek when all of this was over and everything they cherished-their home, their future, and most of all, Spock, had been taken away for good.


	6. Chapter 6

The Sarpeidon Chronicles Part 6

Chapter 6

Fan fiction only. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

Thanks in large part to a mixture of compassionate badgering from its acting captain and some innovative tweaks from the engineering staff, the Wellfleet settled into orbit around Gamma Aurelius several hours ahead of schedule. To their relief, no other vessels, hostile or otherwise, were in the vicinity.

"The colony will be in sensor range momentarily, Admiral," Taylor's science officer informed her. "Commencing full scan for any and all humanoid life forms."

"Proceed. Report results as they come in."

"Understood." The young man paused, bent closer to his viewscreen, and scrutinized the printout. "Reading approximately ninety life forms. It's difficult to be certain-there's an unusual amount of magnetic interference disrupting my scans."

Taylor scowled. "If the Romulans have set up camp there, they've no doubt brought some cloaking technology with them. But only ninety? I expected more."

"Perhaps many, if not all, of the original colonists have already left the planet," Adonia suggested. Her gaze never left her own navigational panel. "There may be other vessels like the Kraken-drifting."

"Hail them. Use a non-Starfleet frequency. Let them think we're a commercial vessel, stopping by to offer supplies."

The Wellfleet's communications officer nodded, punched a few keys, then shook her head. "They do not respond, Admiral. Communications are apparently disabled."

"Not exactly surprising. We'll beam down a security team and take a look for ourselves." Taylor turned to Adonia. "Am I correct, Lieutenant, in assuming you would not object to leading the landing party?"

Adonia's face colored as she got up from her station. "Indeed I would not, Admiral."

"Go, then. Take a security team and see if you can aid any remaining colonists. Use of force is permitted as necessary."

"Yes, Admiral." Crossing the bridge, Adonia summoned the turbolift and stepped into it wearing a resolute expression Taylor remembered seeing often on the bridge of another ship long ago. If the current situation hadn't been so grave, she might have given in to a small, wistful smile of her own.

* * *

They materialized some distance away from the colony. When the same interference prevented accurate tricorder scans there are well, Adonia motioned for the fifteen members of her team to fan out and approach the outlying structures from behind. Though vegetation was sparse, a few scattered clumps of trees and scrub would provide intermittent cover as they moved forward.

"We will advance in pairs, phasers on stun," she ordered. "Keep communications open at all times. Alert the rest of the team the moment you discover anything of significance." Her charges signaled their understanding and dispersed, with the exception of Ensign Doyle, the six-foot, ruddy-cheeked guard who would accompany her.

"Sure is quiet," he observed when they had drawn close enough to see the roofs of the colony's outermost structures peeking above the ragged treeline.

Adonia had been thinking the same thing: aside from the distant buzz of the native insects and the rustle of leaves in the mild breeze, there really was nothing. Not the clink of a tool, the scrape of a footstep, or the murmur of a single voice.

"The colonists may be imprisoned or disabled in some way. We must proceed with extreme caution."

"Sounds about right to me."

They soon reached the first of the outlying structures, a simple wooden hut that appeared to serve as a kind of storage facility. The double doors were held shut with a primitive iron clasp.

"Let's open it," Adonia said. "Cover me."

Doyle moved into a protective stance while she wrenched open the shed. A moment later, they jumped back as an avalanche of purple spilled out and nearly engulfed them.

"Fruit," Adonia said in wonder, picking up one of the brightly colored, pulpy spheres. A sickly sweet odor wafted from the heap that had buried them up to the ankles. "Bushels of them."

"I guess they were saving them for the winter," Doyle observed, keeping his phaser at the ready.

"Impossible. Gamma Aurelius does not experience winter as Terrans know it. There is no point in storing this produce at all. It's beginning to rot." She wrinkled her nose and flung the fruit to the ground. "Let us move on."

They made their way past three more rough-hewn structures, all of which had been filled with baskets of the same odd harvest, all of it now left to decay. Of either colonists or Romulans they found no sign.

Suddenly Adonia's communicator trilled. "Lieutenant, we've found them! You'd better come quickly."

"Acknowledged. On our way." Adonia noted the coordinates of the officer who had summoned her and took off at a run. She found the rest of her officers gathered at the entrance of a barn-like structure, peering into the shadowed interior. They moved aside so she could see inside, but stopped just short of giving her full access.

"I would advise extreme caution, Lieutenant," a woman said, lightly touching Adonia's sleeve to hold her back. "Something's terribly wrong."

Despite years of Starfleet training and a Vulcan temperament, for a moment Adonia found herself too shocked to speak. During the long voyage to Gamma Aurelius, her mind had jumped ahead to dozens of possible scenarios that might await her there. Most of them were unpleasant and some had been downright grisly. None of them, however, had involved what she saw now: rows and rows of desperately ill Romulan males of varying ages, stretched out across every available centimeter of floor space. Their bloated faces were covered with swollen green blotches, and their bodies trembled and writhed under mounds of coarse blankets.

She noticed, however, that neither Selyk nor Therov lay among them.

Seeing her, one of them struggled to sit up, moaning with the effort.

"You," he rasped, extending a shaky finger toward her. "You are in command?"

Adonia cleared her throat. "Yes," she said.

"Then I direct my entreaty directly to you. We surrender ourselves to the Federation. I ask only that we be given whatever medical attention you can offer to prisoners, however rudimentary. I request this act of mercy on behalf of my men. As you can see, they are suffering."

"I promise you that we will provide any and all treatments at our disposal. However, we must first know the nature of your illness."

The Romulan winced as if to fight off a spasm of agony. "I'm afraid I can offer no enlightenment on that subject," he said at last. "Some virus native to this world, perhaps, or some physiological incompatibility between our metabolisms and the environment. It seems to have had no effect on the Terrans who settled here first." Briefly, he bared his teeth. Adonia couldn't tell whether he was offering her a sneer or a smile. "You might wish to be vigilant of your own health, Lieutenant-you are Vulcan, I assume."

"I am only one-quarter Vulcan, so let us hope I will be spared your affliction. At the moment, I am more interested in these Terrans you spoke of. Where are they now?"

This time, there could be no question that his expression was one of utter disdain. "I would have thought it obvious, Lieutenant, that merely focusing my attention on you now is taxing my remaining strength to its limits. What has transpired beyond these walls for the past week or more, I could not say."

"Clearly, someone has been caring for them," the female security officer noted. "Otherwise, given the shape they're in, most of them would be dead by now."

"Most of us would prefer to be dead," the Romulan snapped. "As usual, the Terrans' misguided sympathy has disgraced us all. Their species never learns from their mistakes."

Adonia shook her head and motioned to the two officers nearest her. "Notify the ship that we will need a bio-containment field, then arrange to beam the patients directly to sickbay. The rest of us will search the outlying buildings for any remaining colonists."

"At least your brother wasn't among the sick ones," Doyle said hopefully as they crossed the encampment and headed toward the next cluster of buildings. They had to step over still more purple fruit, which lay scattered over the ground.

"That is small comfort at best." Adonia's jaw was rigid. "He may not have survived the illness or the invasion. It would have been very much like him to do something improvident."

Doyle looked sympathetic. "Whatever's happened, we'll find out soon enough."

Suddenly, they heard a scraping sound coming from one of the coarse shelters to their right. Instinctively, they dropped into a defensive posture, training their phasers on the wooden door as it slowly creaked open.

Adonia stared, incredulous, as Jarrod and Leila suddenly emerged from the cabin. Each of them carried a stack of towels and an earthen jug of water.

If anything, her brother looked even more astounded than she was. "Adonia! I don't believe it!"

"We thought you required assistance," she said, lowering her phaser and raising an eyebrow instead. "Apparently we were mistaken. You are looking remarkably well, unlike the occupants of the structure we just visited."

He and Leila exchanged a glance. "Yes, they are having a rougher time of it than we are. Still, we're doing what we can to look after them. We haven't lost one yet."

All around the compound, windows and doors began to open, the colonists emerging to greet their rescuers with cheers and handshakes. Quickly Adonia relayed this positive development to the Wellfleet, then looked from Jarrod to Leila with growing curiosity. "You were not concerned that you were risking your own health to tend to the Romulans? Even they have no idea what has befallen them."

"We know because we engineered their illness. Or, rather, Leila did-I just assisted her. It's all because of those juicy Aurelian plums you see lying around everywhere. They're a special strain, a little treat Leila developed just for the Romulans. All it took was a few genetic tweaks to an existing prototype, and we had an entire grove full of perfect little time bombs. The Romulans find them utterly addictive; at the same time, they contain an acid that reacts with copper-based blood. The result is severe gastrointestinal distress and the gradual onset of anemia. Within a week, most of them were too weak to do anything more than curse at us."

"My friend Elias did try to relay a message that we had regained control of the colony," Leila said. "Unfortunately, we couldn't repair the communications unit. Selyk destroyed it personally, and he did a very thorough job."

Adonia frowned at the mention of Selyk. "I must tell you frankly that your safety was not Starfleet's only concern in this instance. The Wellfleet has been charged with the recovery of Therov and Selyk, along with any escaped prisoners who may be traveling with them. May I inquire-"

Jarrod pointed into the distance. "Selyk is in the last cabin on the right, not much better off than his friends in the barn. We thought it best to keep him isolated. He's a bastard when he's ill-almost as bad as when he isn't."

"Elias is with him right now," Leila said. "We try to keep someone with him at all times."

Quickly Adonia dispatched two security guards in the direction her brother had indicated. Her voice caught a bit when she made the next inevitable inquiry. "...And Therov?"

"Well...finding him is going to be a bit trickier. At first, we were hoping that the fruit would have the same effect on his body chemistry, but we were wrong. He had a few stomach pains, but he recovered much more rapidly than the others. One night, he sneaked off into the woods, and we haven't seen him since. It's possible he got off the planet, since the last of his mercenaries disappeared around the same time. We figure they had a few small crafts hidden in the woods all along."

Adonia nodded. "Our long-range sensors are scanning for any unregistered vessels in the area. If they are still within range, we should be able to take them into custody. We will also initiate a full-scale search of the less inhabited areas of the planet."

"You can expect to run into some difficulties there. Romulan High Command has disavowed any connection with them for obvious reasons, but I'd be surprised if they sent them into the Neutral Zone empty-handed."

"In fact, we did encounter some difficulty with our scanners. That would tend to support your conjecture." Excusing herself, she stepped away for a brief exchange with the Wellfleet. "The ship is preparing a secure area to receive the afflicted Romulans," she reported when she came back. "I should go and assist my team in preparing them for transport."

"Why don't I go on ahead?" Leila offered. "I've been tending them all this time, after all-I know more about their condition than anyone. Besides, I'm sure you two have plenty to catch up on."

"We'll be there in a minute," Jarrod promised as she walked away.

"I trust you still find your association with Miss Kalomi rewarding?" Adonia asked when they were alone.

"Never mind that." Her brother waved the question away. "I heard about the trouble at the Embassy. What's happening with Father?"

"The way it looks now, he will most likely be convicted." Adonia sighed. "Much as it pains me to admit it, I doubt there is anything we can do."

* * *

"I've had some disturbing reports from your jailers, Ambassador." Hands clasped behind his back, Naj Ahkafr stood in the middle of Spock's cell and surveyed the sparse furnishings. "They fear you're going mad. Apparently you talk to your chess set at the most inopportune times."

Spock looked up from his desk. The chess set in question sat to his right, the pieces arranged as if he had been playing a game against himself. "I can assure you that my mental faculties are unimpaired. It was my understanding that as long as I committed no infractions while in custody, I could occupy myself as I chose."

"Yes, yes, you've been a model prisoner. Vulcans always are." The prosecutor unclasped his hands and shook his head impatiently. "I haven't come here to reprimand you."

"Why have you come, then? Surely T'Rhan should be present as well."

"I didn't want to disturb her. She's hard at work, preparing her summation to the Arbiter. It's sure to be a wasted effort, but at least she'll have the satisfaction of knowing that she did everything she could for you. It's the only consolation one can derive after representing a client who is so obviously guilty."

"Then you have come to offer me a plea bargain."

"In a way. It's my job to make sure you are convicted, Ambassador. I think we both agree that my chances are good to excellent."

"I am in no position to disagree."

"I'm glad you realize that. You've lost everything here-your reputation, your home, and any hope of a pardon. Starfleet looks askance on traitors, however sterling their previous record might be. If anything, they'll want to make an example of you. I plan to enable them to do precisely that."

"Understandable." Spock steepled his fingers. "Your zeal on behalf of the Federation is a matter of record...as is the fact that you have suffered great personal loss because of the Romulans."

"Yes, most everyone knows that, especially since T'Rhan made a production of it. It's an aspect of my past I dwell on no more than I must, but there is no denying that the Federation pulled me and my family almost literally from the ashes of our former world. They fed us, clothed us, educated us, gave me not only a means of supporting myself but a lifelong career. The Federation is long on mercy; some might say their helping hands are spread too wide. It wasn't easy to abandon my world, ruined though it might have been, and become a man without a planet. Still, I had a choice: myself and my family or my people. It's a decision few are ever called on to make, but I did."

"I see."

Ahkafr paced a bit, then stopped. "So, speaking of difficult decisions...What would you do to be free of this predicament you find yourself in?"

"You have already stated that any such hope on my part would be futile. Therefore, I can think of no adequate response to that question."

"That's quite true-providing we both play by the usual tedious rules. You've probably never bent one in your life, have you? "

Spock raised a chess piece and turned it slowly over in his fingers. "In general, I prefer a traditional approach to most matters."

"Well, then-perhaps I'll simply leave you to imagine what it might be like to take a different path, especially when there is only one that can lead you back to the light."

Ahkafr tapped on the wall com to summon the guard.

* * *

She paused to take a deep breath before walking through the front door of his apartment.

"Are you troubled by regret?" Sumarr asked as he stepped in behind her.

Lidia swallowed. "No."

"That is an overstatement. You are apprehensive about your parents' reaction."

"Of course I am. It shames me to know that I am making things even more difficult for my mother."

"Given all that has transpired in your household, I suppose that is inevitable to some degree. However, now is not the time for self-recrimination. You are a grown woman who must make her own decisions. And so you have."

"I know. You're right."

Sumarr's eyes became unusually bright for a moment. "I trust that Selyk's former room will prove a suitable arrangement. All his things have been removed; he never kept many possessions to begin with."

Turning, Lidia touched his face. "You still miss him terribly."

"I suppose I always will. But you have shown me that life can take some unexpected turns. For that I am more grateful than you know."

"I do know."

He covered her hand with his own. "You are trembling."

"Does that surprise you?" She laughed uneasily. "Never mind. I'll be all right. Will you give me some time?"

"Of course."

He released her, and she moved quickly past him. Soon she disappeared into what had once been Selyk's room.


	7. Chapter 7

The Sarpeidon Chronicles Part 6

Fan fiction only. No copyright infringement intended. +

**Chapter 7**

The pain in his stomach came and went, and at times Selyk almost felt capable of rolling himself off the bed and forcing himself to take a few steps across the room. Then, just as quickly, the numbness would snake through his limbs again, and the buzz in his head would force him back down into the pillows.

When his vision was clear, he could gaze through the open door that led to the outer room of the cabin. There, someone was always set up to act as his guard and attendant, bringing him water and whatever bland foods he could keep down.

Sometimes Jarrod came, sometimes Jarrod's mistress. "Don't worry," they said to him when he longed, aloud, for death. "It's just temporary." He knew that by the time he recovered, Starfleet would be there to take him into custody. And he would be able to do absolutely nothing about it.

Weak—so weak, in body and spirit alike. They'd tempted him with sweet-tasting poison and he, like all the others, had given in to it so easily. Now, as if to deepen his shame, they'd set only an elderly human man to guard him. Worse still, Selyk himself knew he had no chance of prevailing in a fight. Every time he tried to stir, his mind swam and his limbs seemed to melt against the bedclothes. Before long, he'd be lost in one bizarre daydream or another, only to be jarred awake by the incessant prodding in his guts.

At first, when he saw the room's single window being wrenched open and a figure crawling through it, he assumed it was just another of his many hallucinations. But that was before impatient hands clutched his shirtfront and pulled him up into a sitting position.

"They're here," Therov whispered in an urgent tone. "Starfleet. They've come for us."

"We have to go," Selyk replied groggily.

"Come on, then. I'll help you." Therov hoisted Selyk off the bed and threw him over one shoulder, wrapping a muscular arm around his knees. They had started back toward the window when the old man, who had been dozing at a small table in the next room, spotted them through the open door and jumped to his feet.

"Hey!" He shouted. "You! Stop!"

Selyk was a little surprised to hear Therov bark out a laugh. They continued toward the window as Sandoval rushed into the room, reaching for Selyk as if to physically pull him out of Therov's grasp.

"Get off, would you?" the Andorian asked in an incongruously carefree tone. When the old man continued to grapple with them, Therov calmly swung around, never loosening his hold on Selyk, and brought his right hand down swiftly. The Romulan disruptor he clutched in his fingers made a cracking sound as it impacted with the side of Sandoval's head.

Then, suddenly, Selyk felt himself being hoisted out of the window. He hit the ground painfully, but what was a little discomfort compared to the prospect of being free again? Already Therov was dragging him toward the woods, where the two of them could take cover.

* * *

"It's strange to think how quickly this will all be over," Leila said as they trailed after the security contingent on its way to retrieve Selyk from his cabin. Behind them, the stricken Romulans were in the process of being transported to the Wellfleet's brigs. "It felt like years while we waited for our hybrids to grow…even longer for them to take effect." 

"Time didn't exactly fly while we were taking care of them, either." Jarrod sighed. "In any case, your idea worked to perfection. Starfleet will probably issue you a commendation, at the very least."

"I'd rather they didn't. I wanted to save the colony, not develop a botanical weapon. We came here to do agronomic research. How did we ever stray so far off course?"

"I guess you have me to thank for that. They came because I was here."

"Surely you don't think anyone blames you. I know that I'm glad you found your way to us, even if there were unexpected consequences." As they walked, she reached out and touched his hand lightly; when he didn't respond, she let her fingers drop to her side again.

"That would be one way to put it." He didn't meet her eyes.

"It doesn't matter now. The Romulans will be gone soon, and things can get back to normal."

"No doubt." He kept silent for a while, then cleared his throat and spoke in a strained voice. "But, Leila…the Romulans won't be the only ones gone. When the Wellfleet leaves, I plan to be aboard. You know I wish you success in rebuilding the colony and continuing your research—you'll have it do it without me, though."

She clutched his sleeve and pulled him to a stop. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I need to go home for a while, given everything that's going on there. I'm also saying that I probably won't return to Gamma Aurelius. I think you can guess why."

The stricken look on her face filled him with pain he struggled not to feel, not to show. Had his father experienced the same ambivalence when he'd left her? Had she plied him with the same utterly desolate expression?

"I—I don't want to stay here without you," she finally choked out.

"Without some part of him, you mean." His eyes narrowed. "You still think of my father every time you look at me, don't you? I've known it for a long time—I just chose not to deal with the implications."

"There's no answer to that question that would please you. Even if I denied it, you'd accuse me of lying."

"And you would be. So don't."

They stared at each other until Leila's eyes turned as stony as his.

"Well, I can't make the decision for you. Go with your sister, if that's what you want. You may keep your regrets to yourself…as I will."

He was spared the necessity of replying by a shout from the cabin they'd been heading toward. Elias had emerged onto the porch, and the four security officers had rushed up the steps to meet him. He was clutching the side of his head with one hand. Even from a distance, they could see that blood oozed between his fingers.

* * *

"The Federation isn't bugging your cell," the prosecutor said, taking a perfunctory look around after he had waved Spock's guards away. Another solitary chess game was in progress; aside from the slight rearrangement of the pieces, everything was as it had been during their previous conversation a few hours earlier. "Embassy regulations forbid it, and in any case I have never requested it. We may speak freely, as before." 

Spock hovered almost motionless over the chess pieces spread out before him. "Assuming, of course, that we have anything to speak about."

"I think we do. The Arbiter will make his ruling in less than forty-eight hours. T'Rhan will present a masterful argument on your behalf, I am certain, but we both know that you will be bound over for a formal trial. Certain outcomes are inevitable when it comes to political scandals."

"Perhaps."

"In a way, though, you might be relieved to end this ordeal. It's not as if you have much to return to, even if you were by some miracle acquitted. You can have no future with the Federation. The stain of accusation will always taint you—rightly, in my opinion, since we both know that you are beyond any and all doubt guilty."

Spock extended his right hand to sweep several pieces off the board, then briskly moved others into the vacated squares. "You appear to be giving your own summation prematurely."

"I prefer to think of it as a sort of divination—though I base my predictions on logic and not augury. As I see it, there is only one avenue by which you could hope to escape a lifetime of shame and imprisonment. That is to cultivate the favors of allies who are resourceful enough to physically remove you from Federation custody. It might not be the most ethical solution, but it could prove effective. Has T'Rhan suggested it yet? Never mind, you wouldn't tell me if she had. She has sufficient motive—but not, I fear, the sort of connections needed to effect a liberation of such magnitude."

"Presumably, though, you know of others who do."

"It is my duty to know. Over the course of my career, I have met and negotiated with operatives whose agendas even you might find shocking. I have done what I must to serve the Federation—but I have also served myself. Was that so wrong? I could have done what the rest of my people did: lay down quietly and sacrificed myself in the name of some nebulous code of ethnic honor. Instead, I chose a future for myself, and life for my family as well."

"I think I am beginning to understand why you have come to me."

Ahkafr continued as if he had not heard. "Some might have considered the price we paid for our lives to be exorbitant; in my eyes it was almost insultingly trivial. All I was asked to do was provide some then-unnamed favor to the Romulan war machine, if and when I found myself in a position to bestow one. At the time, the very notion seemed ludicrous. Yet somehow a destitute refugee, as I was, managed to gain not only respectability, but also the kind of authority I could never have dreamed of on my homeworld. I daresay someone was watching over me and ensuring my progress—I have never been able to determine who."

Spock frowned. "Indeed—such information would be most valuable," he mused. "In any event, I take it the Romulans have now called in this long-promised favor."

"They have. This should not come as a surprise—it is you. I am here to offer you safe passage to the Neutral Zone, where Romulan High Command stands ready to greet you. Time is short, of course. You will leave tonight, while everyone is preoccupied with the arrangements for your final evidentiary hearing."

"Why are you—and they—offering me this? Obviously, the risks are substantial."

"They are not as great as you might think. I, of course, will have a firm alibi as I prepare to secure your conviction. In a way, I'm almost sorry my role will never be known—it would be impossible not to appreciate the irony. As for the Romulans, they have long believed that rebels often make the best allies. They commend you for sending them Selyk. He is a prize the Federation would never have recognized. The same goes for Therov, though he has proven himself a man of theory, rather than action. The Romulans are pragmatic above all else."

"Then it was you who disclosed the location of Therov's imprisonment. As a liaison for the Security Council, you would have access to that information."

The prosecutor shrugged. "Intelligence leaks happen all the time. I cannot be expected to stem them all. You should know that no one on the Security Council actually believes you were responsible for that particular transgression—however, it made sense to add that particular charge as a safeguard, in case the others proved impossible to substantiate. We didn't count on your wife's cooperation. I must be sure to thank her in person once you are gone."

Spock's solitary game continued, though his moves now proceeded more slowly. One by one, the tiny likenesses of Vulcan historical figures took their places along both sides of the board. "What is Sumarr's role? Has he participated in your machinations at all?"

"Sumarr? No—that fool is one of the most misguided souls I've encountered in all my years among your people. He is actually misguided enough to love the Federation and all it has supposedly done for him. Luckily, his son—and you and I—know better. Now, let us conclude this before your attendants return. Let me help you. The Romulans have been generous to me—they will be with you as well."

The game was almost over now; the only pieces remaining were a pawn, an armored knight astride a Sehlat, and the tallest figure, that of Surak, which still stood untouched in the king's position. "You are making me this offer in all sincerity?"

"I am."

"Very well." Spock nodded, pushed aside the knight and raised the figure of Surak to eye level. "In that case, I must tell you something. You are correct in that your prosecution team has not been allowed to install listening devices in this cell. T'Rhan made sure of that. However, no such constraint applies to the defense. With the cooperation of the Vulcan Embassy, I have made use of that provision." Spock turned over the Surak chess piece in his hand, removed its base, and spoke casually to the figurine. "I presume you have successfully recorded our exchange, Father?"

"Indeed I have," Sarek's voice issued clearly through the same channel. "A most useful innovation, though for obvious reasons we must hope that its deployment will not be a frequent event."

For a few moments, it appeared as though Ahkafr really was preparing to flee. His body tensed as soon as his shock began to wear off, and he turned toward the cell's entrance as if preparing to hurl himself through it. Embassy guards, however, were already gathering outside the forcefield.

"Generous though your offer is, I must decline," Spock said as they drew their weapons and trained them on the former prosecutor. "My position here, as it happens, is more secure than you have been led to believe."


	8. Chapter 8

The Sarpeidon Chronicles Part 6

Fan fiction only. No copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter 8**

From the moment she arrived at the Embassy, Zarabeth could tell that the final phase of Spock's evidentiary hearing would be different from the previous sessions. For the first time, she and Lidia, along with a dozen or so other spectators who had gathered in the corridor, were ushered to seats inside the courtroom.

"No doubt the final disposition of the case is considered a matter of public interest," Lidia theorized, but Zarabeth could tell that she had been taken off guard as well. From across the aisle, a few people she recognized as members of Spock's staff looked at her but said nothing. Had they heard the details of the testimony she had given the last time she had been in this room? They probably considered her far worse a traitor than he had ever been. And Spock had forbidden her to defend herself to anyone besides her own children.

After the various spectators had been seated, they waited for what seemed like hours. Finally T'Rhan arrived, her expression tight and unreadable, followed by the arbiter and his small entourage of clerks and bailiffs. Neither the prosecutor nor the defendant appeared, even though court was about to commence.

"Something has happened to him," Zarabeth said.

"Nonsense. T'Rhan would have informed us," Lidia replied, though she sounded far from confident.

"We must trust her."

"That is one thing I'm afraid I could never do."

A low murmur spread through the room as the rest of those assembled became restless. Silence fell again, though, when a middle-aged Terran male entered and stepped behind the prosecution table. He remained there, standing alone, as the proceedings got underway.

The arbiter addressed his first question to the newcomer. "Counselor, I understand that you wish to speak on behalf of the Federation?"

"I do. Arbiter, recent developments have led our investigation down a somewhat unexpected path. A full report is pending, but in the meantime the Federation Security Council has authorized me to withdraw all charges against Ambassador Spock."

The arbiter ignored the gasps that rippled around the courtroom. Instead, he turned his attention to T'Rhan.

"I trust your client has been notified of this development?"

T'Rhan stood as well. "He has, Arbiter. He has also requested that I relay his apologies to the court for his absence. However, at the moment, he is assisting security officials in matters which cannot yet be made public."

"In that case, this court wishes him every success in bringing this unfortunate matter to an end. Be it duly recorded that all charges against Ambassador Spock are dismissed. This case will not be bound over for trial."

Zarabeth had burst into tears of relief even before the arbiter's gavel rapped the bench. As they rose along with everyone else in the room, she and Lidia tearfully embraced.

"I will go and send Adonia a communication from the school," Lidia said. "It will reach her ship much faster that way."

She had just turned to go when two members of Embassy Security came forward. "The Ambassador wishes us to escort you home. You may wait for him there and he will join you as soon as he is able."

"Yes, of course." Zarabeth looked around as the guards stood aside and waited for her to accompany them. "Lidia, be sure to tell your sister—"

But no one was there to hear her. Lidia had slipped away.

* * *

"So far, our sensors have failed to detect either Therov or Selyk," Adonia informed her security team, keeping one eye on her tricorder as she addressed them. "It is possible that they have found a way to block our scans. We shall continue the search using more traditional methods. Keep communicators ready and maintain visual contact with the nearest team member at all times."

"In my opinion, they'll turn up nearby," one of the officers said. "As ill as Selyk is, he can't have traveled far."

"That depends on the extent of the assistance he received." Adonia motioned for them to fan out in the woods that stretched behind the colony's structures, vacant since the last colonists had beamed aboard the Wellfleet an hour earlier. Since then, repeated shipboard sweeps of the planet had turned up no life signs aside from their own. "Proceed."

Though she tried to project an air of confidence as she moved into the covert, Adonia privately found herself more than a little unnerved by her surroundings. Aside from a few training modules at Starfleet Academy, and a few virtual reality games she had played as a child, never before had she attempted to navigate so sylvan an environment.

She watched the various members of her team push their way into the forest until they were swallowed up, one by one, by the vast thicket around them, and experienced a twinge of self-doubt. Did her orders regarding visual contact pertain to her as well? Should she have ordered them to explore in pairs again? Her goal had been to cover as much ground as quickly as possible, but she was beginning to realize that even so limited a command role held challenges she had not anticipated. Perhaps such decisions had always come instinctively to her father. In her case, she feared they never would.

She walked on, alone, for what seemed like several kilometers, though the amount of effort it took to navigate the tangled deadfall made it difficult to be sure. Even the air grew cooler as a claustrophobic sensation settled over her. Looking up, she saw very little of the sky, the sunlight itself smothered by an explosion of bizarre vegetation that rose like a tent far over her head. Fat, ropy vines and branches studded with bulbous black nodules trailed down from rows of gargantuan trees whose trunks would have filled her quarters back on the Wellfleet. No doubt owing to the lack of direct light, everything bloomed in dreary shades of grey, black, and brown. Probably not even Jarrod and Leila, with their shared enthusiasm for exotic flora, had cared to venture this far. Unnerved, she tightened her grip on her phaser.

Soon enough, her sensitive hearing picked something up: no more than a whisper, like a quickly indrawn breath or the scratch of a boot heel on a rocky patch of ground. Instinctively she took cover behind the closest tree and surveyed the area with cautious eyes.

In truth, she had given little thought to what she would do if she actually discovered one—or both—of them. It had been many years since she had considered Therov anything more than a youthful folly, now safely locked away behind prison walls. Certainly she had never imagined that the two of them would share the same world again.

Though she knew her father would disapprove of such irrational behavior, Adonia felt her face warm with the shame she had repressed for nearly a decade. She had done her best to make up for her mistakes ever since—all to no avail, she realized now. Would taking Therov into custody finally banish that particular guilt-fueled demon?

Another noise registered—closer this time, and most assuredly that of a large sentient thrashing about rather clumsily in the brush. With no time to signal any of her officers and no desire to betray her own presence by speaking into her communicator, Adonia squared her shoulders and forged ahead.

Somewhat to her own surprise, Adonia pushed her way through a cluster of sticky creepers and found herself looking down at Selyk. He was lying on his side in a matted bed of fernlike specimens whose leaves were curled around his sleeves and pant legs in a most peculiar manner. His eyes seemed to burn with fever and rage as he twisted his head around and glared at her.

"Either put the phaser down or use it to end my agony at once," he snarled, wriggling his arms to show that the prickly leaves held him fast to the ground. "I'm no threat to you. Apparently toxic plants do not only take root in laboratories on this repulsive little orb. Then again, you might prefer to watch and gloat. What little life-force I have left should be gone in a matter of moments."

"Of course," she said. "Limited photosynthesis has led to the evolution of carnivorous plants here. Remain patient while I assist you."

Lowering her weapon, Adonia moved forward and knelt beside him. "Are the leaves toxic?"

"No—their function is to hold the prey in place. If I hadn't already been poisoned by your brother and his mistress, I could have fought my own way out. As it is, I can't even move my arms. Too weak."

"Very well. I will attempt to remove them from your limbs and then pull you to safety."

She bent forward, shifting her phaser to her left hand and used her right to grasp the first clump of tendrils. Prepared to feel the unpleasant scrape of nettles on her skin, she took a deep breath and peeled them away from his body.

When they lifted away as gently as the petals on a Terran garden flower, she realized her mistake. The expected blow came from just above her right shoulder and knocked her into the bracken beside Selyk, who easily rolled to one side and drew himself up into a crouch. He took her phaser with him.

Her first glimpse of Therov revealed a gaunt, scarred, and even somewhat haggard version of the youthful idealist she had known in another lifetime.

"We were hoping to take a hostage—we had no idea we'd be fortunate enough to get you." Holding a Romulan disruptor inches from her face, he reached down and snatched away her tricorder. He tossed it to Selyk, who immediately got to work on it. Adonia suspected he was recalibrating its settings to Romulan frequencies."It seems, my dear, that we are destined to find each other under any circumstances."

"Hardly. Starfleet, not fate, sent me here. My mission is to apprehend you and return you to the confinement you have earned."

He laughed and moved toward her, his free hand extended. Adonia backed up, and his expression turned sour. "So there is nothing left of the feeling you once had for me?"

She shook her head. "Such passions as I felt for you are only for the very young, Therov, or the very foolish. Once, I was both. Now I am neither."

"What a shame. A passionate woman like you has so much to offer a man, Adonia. I saw it even then, when you were scarcely more than a child."

"I was much more than a child. You saw me as you wished to so that you could take advantage of me."

"Admittedly, our fortunes do seem to have traveled in opposite directions. Yet, at the moment, mine are ascendant. And you know I am a man who likes to live in the moment."

"I fail to see how you can believe that. I am not the only one looking for you."

"Well, let them look. No doubt you have already determined that Selyk and I are using a modified cloaking device to mask our bioreadings. What you would have been unable to learn is how far its range extends. Rest assured, you became invisible to your lackeys some time ago. As of now, you are at my mercy."

Adonia's shoulders slumped. She had no doubt he was telling her the truth.

"You needn't worry that we're going to kill you," Selyk said, looking up from the tricorder. "I can't speak for the Romulans, of course, when we return to the Empire. That will happen soon."

"He's right," Therov said. "Selyk, you, and I are not the only things cloaked in this forest. Somewhere nearby is an escape vessel—nothing fancy, you understand, just enough to get us off the ground and out of orbit for a few hours."

"And there you will be met by other cloaked ships," she finished for him. "Romulan ships."

"If you defect, they may spare you. I suggest you start thinking it over. Now that we have the tricorder, we should be able to locate the pod. That's the trouble with cloaking—you can't see a thing in broad daylight. Is it ready, Selyk?"

Selyk gave the tricorder a few last adjustments and nodded. "I can read both of you now, so presumably the pod will register, too. We should start walking again." He hauled himself to his feet with obvious difficulty. "I think I can keep up."

"You'll have to," Therov snapped.


	9. Chapter 9

The Sarpeidon Chronicles Part 6

Fan fiction only. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter 9

They walked on for nearly an hour. Selyk, moving slowly and fighting his obvious pain, kept his eyes on the reconfigured tricorder as he scanned for the cloaked escape pod. Therov's gaze remained locked on Adonia. In a way, she was grateful for the shade provided by the almost grotesquely thick vegetation that twisted around them. Otherwise, he might have seen the uncertain expression on her face.

Or perhaps he wouldn't have noticed, after all. For the moment, at least, he seemed entirely caught up in recounting his escapades as a fugitive.

"Some of my detractors might say that I remained on Gamma Aurelius too long," he said, directing a caustic look at Selyk, who pointedly ignored him. "Yet I have learned to trust my instincts in knowing exactly when to take flight. The same goes for prison. I knew when to leave there, too."

"That was hardly your choice," Selyk observed. "An opportunity presented itself; you took advantage of it. Nothing more."

"Perhaps I did not choose the exact hour of my departure, but the escape resulted from years of planning, both direct and indirect. All my pawns finally moved into position, you might say."

"A unique perspective, to be sure," Selyk muttered.

Therov ignored him. "Of course, I do give you credit, as well, my dear. I thought of you often during my confinement. Whether you care to believe it or not, you inspired me to continue striving for freedom."

"If that is the case, I am sorry to hear it."

He went on as if she hadn't responded. "It wasn't only that I hoped to see you again. It was also that I hoped that one day, I could help you break free of your own imprisonment." He flicked at the sleeve of her uniform as if he'd seen a particularly nasty insect crawling on it. "The fact that you have enslaved yourself devising makes it no less tragic. I know you better than you think, Adonia. An overly structured life is not for you."

Selyk, who had moved on ahead, stopped and called out to them.

"The tricorder is picking up an anomaly just ahead. It may be the pod. I'll have to deactivate the cloaking field for us to access it."

"Just be sure you can turn it back on again. Our precautions won't do us much good if Starfleet can take aim the moment we are airborne."

"I have already taken that into account, Therov." Scowling, he typed something into the tricorder and stood back as an oval shape abruptly shimmered into existence. Torpedo-shaped, its sleek hull was adorned with an intricate red-and-black Romulan warbird that covered almost its entire width–which, it turned out, was far from impressive.

"This pitiful thimble is what your associates have provided for our escape?" Therov hissed. "Look at it! It will barely support two life forms–never three!"

"You should be grateful it is there at all, and that I was able to find it for you! I suggest we make the best of it."

"Therov–" Adonia began, but the Andorian cut her off angrily by grabbing her wrist and twisting it so hard that she gasped.

"I know what you're going to say. That I should leave you here and take my chances while I can. Do not presume to think for me, or you may be quite disappointed by what I decide!"

"And I should say the same to you!" Angrily, she wrenched her hand free and took a step back. "Actually, I–I was going to ask you to leave Selyk and take me instead."

Therov stopped with his mouth still open in mid-tirade.

"You didn't expect me to agree, did you? I might have known all that talk about understanding me so well was only your self-serving prattle. And here I thought you were offering me a real chance to start over. The truth is, I have grown to hate Starfleet almost as much as you do. Surely you have figured out that I joined to atone for my brother's disgrace. My father insisted, as a matter of fact. He sees me as little more than a means to safeguard his own reputation. What I wanted has never mattered at all–except to you."

"Obviously she is as deceitful as her brother," Selyk grumbled. But Therov's lips had begun to turn up at the corners.

"It would make more sense to leave him here," Adonia continued. "The Empire is not likely to be pleased with the outcome of the mission they entrusted him with. Why should you and I share his fate?"

"Therov, enough of this nonsense!" Selyk shouted. "Get into the pod. I will dispose of her, if you cannot bring yourself to do it!"

Therov held up his hand. "Her suggestion has a certain logic behind it. No doubt you will face punishment at the hands of the Romulans. I have a feeling their prison system will make the Federation's look positively Epicurean."

"You weak-minded fool! She has no more changed her mind about the Federation than you and I have. Open your eyes–she is deceiving you to save herself!"

The Andorian's beady eyes narrowed as he looked from Adonia to Selyk and then back again. "You are both trying to confuse me. Rush my decision and neither of you may be alive when I do leave."

"Well, forgive me for hurrying you, Therov, but the circumstances do rather demand it. You are aware that when I deactivated the cloak around the pod, I rendered the three of us visible to Starfleet's sensors, as well. I expect they have determined our location by now, and should be beaming into the vicinity momentarily." This time it was Selyk's turn to smirk as a look of panic spread across Therov's face. "On the bright side, waiting would enable us to settle the question of Adonia's loyalty once and for all. We should have years thereafter to discuss it."

Sure enough, he had hardly finished speaking before Adonia heard the familiar whine of a transporter beam. A six-person security force began to take shape only a few meters away from them. Their weapons were already drawn.

Before the first of several colorful curse words left Therov's tongue, Adonia spun, locked her ankle around his, and grabbed his weapon. The two hit the ground together, tussling for the disruptor. Therov raised an angry fist above his head, but Selyk seized his wrist before he could bring it down on Adonia's face.

"Never mind her! Come!"

Together, they ran for the shuttle. Just as the security team finished materializing, Adonia found herself in sole possession of the disruptor Therov had relinquished. Still on the ground, she took aim just as the pod door slid shut and the vessel itself began to fade from view. Helplessly, she and her subordinates flattened themselves as a tremendous pressure cleaved the forest. A cloud of leaves, dirt, and twigs darkened the air, and the trees around them bent double, some of them snapping cleanly in two.

Shielding her face and communicator with one arm, Adonia summoned the Wellfleet. "A shuttle is leaving the planet's surface–cloaked! Can you get a lock on it?"

"Negative, Lieutenant. We aren't reading anything."

"Damn." Adonia hadn't used so Terran an expression in many years, and certainly not since she had donned a Starfleet uniform, but in this case the situation seemed to call for it. The bitter taste of failure stung her mouth. There was no denying the inevitable. Her first mission was over, and Therov and Selyk were gone.

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Jarrod had scarcely finished transferring the last of his meager belongings from his duffel bag to a drawer when he heard a summons at his cabin door. To his surprise, he opened it and found Leila standing there.

"May I come in?" she asked, but slipped past him without actually waiting for his consent. She paused to eye the glass and bottle he'd left on a small table by the porthole.

"I hadn't expected to find you drinking," she said.

"Why not? It's my father, not I, who object to spirits as a matter of principle. Then again, I can understand why you might occasionally get the two of us confused."

She looked away. "Perhaps I deserved that."

"I'm sorry. That wasn't especially gentlemanly of me, was it?" Jarrod sighed. "But why are you here? I had no idea you were coming aboard."

"It turns out that Elias' head wound requires an extended stay in sickbay. He decided it would be a good idea to have it examined at the Starbase. We're going to need some supplies in order to rebuild the colony anyway. I've taken it upon myself to organize a shopping expedition. Maybe it will be good to visit a real marketplace again. Then again, maybe not. It seems as though I left civilization for a reason, even if I can't remember at the moment precisely what it was."

His brows lifted. "That means we'll be together for almost a week."

"True enough. I hope you won't be too uncomfortable with that."

"Well, even if I were, I have no right to dissuade you. You have as much right as any other Federation citizen to visit a Starbase. Probably more than I do, considering my brief and checkered career with Starfleet."

"I'm glad you aren't angry. I came because I wanted to tell you myself, rather than run into you somewhere and cause an even more awkward scene than this one has turned out to be."

"Thank you for that."

A tense silence stretched between them for what seemed an endless moment. Finally, Leila took a deep breath and spoke again.

"So, have you seen your sister? How is she?"

He shrugged. "Pretty much as you'd expect: heartbroken because she failed at her first important commission. She's more upset with herself than Admiral Taylor will ever be with her. There's nothing quite like perfectionism to make a person truly miserable."

"Well, there's always self-recrimination. Some of us have learned to live with that kind of pain, though."

"No doubt she'll get over it," he said quickly. "Speaking of that, should I stop in at sickbay and visit Elias? I mean, if you think he'd want me to."

"Yes–please do." The smile she gave him quivered a little. "I think he'd like that very much."

"All right."

She saw herself out, wondering if she shouldn't look into stocking her own quarters with a supply of alcoholic beverages. It was going to be a long voyage, she suspected. At the same time, she couldn't help thinking of another ship and another cabin door, one she hadn't dared to breach. This time, things were going to be different–at least, she hoped so.

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Evening had edged into a brilliantly starlit night by the time the second security detail arrived, bringing Spock home at last.

Kai was the first to greet him, offering an appropriately demure salutation.

"Welcome home, Father. I have already informed Grandfather of your acquittal. He was pleased to know that his intervention proved beneficial."

"You may inform him that I am also grateful to have successfully concluded the ordeal."

"That certainly makes two of us."

He looked up to find that Zarabeth in the doorway, watching them with a guarded expression.

"Very well. I shall send Grandfather the message directly and then retire for the night," Kai announced. With a glance at his mother, he hurried up the stairs and left them alone.

"I had hoped you would return sooner," Zarabeth said cautiously. "I suppose the Embassy wouldn't allow it until they could ensure your safety. No one knows better than I that a charge of treason should never be underestimated."

"The Federation may be an enlightened institution, but it is at its heart a bureaucracy. You are correct in that I could not be released until I had assisted in securing an alternative indictment."

"Then it's really finished? They won't be back to drag you away in the middle of the night?"

"Most unlikely. It would take a minimum of twelve hours to issue a new warrant. For all intents and purposes, therefore, we may assume that I am in no longer in danger."

Slowly, her stricken look melted into one of relief. After a few more moments of hesitation, she threw all decorum aside and rushed forward to embrace him.

"I can think of only one time when I was this glad to see you. Spock, on the stand I said you were no longer the center of my world. You know that as long as there is breath in this body, that will never be the case." Spock raised a brow as her fingers curled somewhat urgently around his. "I could go on for hours about how much I've missed you, but I think I'd rather show you. Come upstairs."

Her determined grip left him little choice but to allow himself to be pulled along. They were halfway up the staircase when Lidia suddenly emerged from her room and stood on the landing.

"I thought you'd gone to sleep," Zarabeth said, discreetly sliding her hand from Spock's.

"I waited up to see Father. We are all thankful to have you back. I apologize for any role I may have played in your misfortune."

"No one blames you, Lidia," Zarabeth assured her. "It was purely by chance that we became involved with Selyk and Sumarr. All of us will simply have to be more cautious in the future."

"I'm sure I needn't remind either of you that no accusations were ever made against Sumarr in this matter. If I cannot be faulted for Father's imprisonment, would it not be hypocritical to hold him liable for his son's misconduct?"

Anger flashed in her mother's eyes. "I'm sure neither of us are in the mood to hear you defend him. Please–this is too complicated to sort out now. Let's discuss it in the morning."

"I'm afraid I won't be here in the morning." Lidia's jaw took on a stubborn–and familiar–set. She raised one hand to reveal that she had carried a suitcase into the hall with her. "Now that Father has come home, I am afraid I will be leaving. I'm going to Sumarr. Tonight."

"You most certainly are not! You may be of legal age, but we can still stop you from doing something that foolish–not to mention unseemly. Return to your room at once."

"You do not understand. Sumarr and I were married last week. Originally, we had planned to keep our union a secret unless I were called upon to testify against either him or Father. Now that neither of them is facing further prosecution, we are free to start our own life. This afternoon, we decided it was time to do so."

"What! Really, Lidia! It's clear that you want to protect him, but there's no need to make up such a ridiculous tale."

"I knew you would not easily accept my announcement." Sighing, Lidia bent and reached into her bag. "I have proof. You will find that all the legal documents are in order."

She extracted a padd and handed it to Spock, who briefly examined it and passed it to Zarabeth.

"She is correct. Lidia–why did you not confer with one or both of us before embarking on so rash a course of action?"

"Because I knew you would forbid me."

"You're quite right about that!"

"Sumarr has prepared a suitable habitat for my amphibians in his home. I shall return to collect them tomorrow. Perhaps then we may reach a mutually satisfactory compromise. For now, I have already summoned the tram."

Without looking at either of her stunned parents, Lidia picked up her suitcase and slipped past them on her way down the stairs.

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Later, Zarabeth lay tracing a pattern on the bedsheet with her thumbnail. "Was T'Rhan terribly disappointed that you convinced me to take you back?"

"As a Vulcan, T'Rhan would never allow personal concerns to obstruct her professional objectivity…though I confess that she did warn me against returning to you."

"Your father got his money's worth, then. I'm glad you didn't listen." She sighed and turned to look at him. "I imagined that once we got past this, everything would just go back to the way it was. Now I'm beginning to think that can never happen."

"It is not the general way of things."

Zarabeth rolled onto her back and covered her face in despair. "Oh, what was Lidia thinking? Anyone could see the kind of crass opportunist that man is–why can't she?"

Spock's expression darkened. "If Sumarr believes he has gained respectability by this alliance, he may find that he has miscalculated. I have been exonerated, but my position at the Embassy is no longer what it was. The perception that my loyalties are tenuous will be difficult, perhaps impossible, to dispel."

"Yes…I was afraid of that. When it comes to politics, one mistake can undo a lifetime of good work."

"I am not prepared to resign just yet. The Vulcan Embassy has intervened on my behalf once; no doubt they will do so again."

She grew thoughtful for a while. "At least no one can accuse us of raising children who don't have minds of their own. Soon none of them will need us at all. Jarrod has already made a life for himself. Adonia is farther away than I can even comprehend. And I think Kai could do fine on his own even now.

"It is true that they have wandered far afield. Yet it also seems reasonable to believe that they will return."

"Maybe you're right. After all, you did." Reaching out, she trailed her fingertips across his temple, over the curve of one delicately tapered ear, and past the small patches of grey that now salted his hair–still far fewer than those that had crept into hers, of course. Briefly it occurred to her that if he lived as long as his father and most other Vulcans, one day their time together would seem to him a relatively brief interlude in a parade of centuries. Perhaps this strange, difficult man never would be able to share, or even fully comprehend, her reliance on him.

"Yes," he agreed. To her relief, she heard no suggestion of regret in his voice. "I did."

"If–or when–we do leave this place, you need never worry that you have disappointed me. Whatever happens, I will gladly go anywhere with you."

Contentment settled over her–and, she hoped, him–like the soft blankets that covered them both. Very soon, for the first time in weeks, she drifted into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
